AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY 



THE STORY OF THE LORD'S DEALINGS WITH 

Mrs. Amanda Smith 

THE COLORED EVANGELIST 

Containing an Account or Her Life Work of Faith, and Her Travels 
in America, England. Ireland. Scotland, India and 
Africa, as an Independent Missionary. 



with an introduction by 

BISHOP THOBURN, OF INDIA. 



" Hitherto the Lord hath helped, me." 



CHICAGO: 

Meyer & Brother. Publishers, 
108 Washington Street, 
1893. 



[ V 0CT 23 139 



IV. 



Preface. 



And from that moment, my heart was settled to do it. But 
as the time has gone, and so much has seemed to come in tc 
hinder, and several persons who had kindly offered to assist me, 
were called away in one direction or another, and I was so wearied 
and the task looked so big, my heart began to fail me, and 1 
thought I could not do it. 

Again I went to the Lord in prayer, and told Him all about it, 
and asked Him what I should do, for His glory alone was all 1 
sought. He whispered to my heart, clearly and plainly, these 
words, "Fear thou not, I will help thee." (Isa. xli: 13.) Again ] 
praised Him; so now I go forward with full faith and trust that 
He will fulfill His own promise. 

My friends who know me best, will make allowances for all 
defects in this autobiographical sketch; and I believe strangers 
also will be charitable, when they know that my opportunities for 
an education have been very limited indeed. 

Three months of schooling was all I ever had. That was at a 
school for whites; though a few colored children were permitted 
to attend. To this school my brother and I walked five and a half 
miles each day, in going and returning, and the attention we re- 
ceived while there was only such as the teacher could give after 
the requirements of the more favored pupils had been met. 

In view of the deficiency in my early education, and other dis- 
advantages in this respect, under which 1 have labored, I crave the 
indulgence of all who may read this simple and unvarnished story 
of my life. 

Amanda Smith. 



INTRODUCTION. 



During the summer of 1876, while attending a camp meeting 
at Epworth Heights, near Cincinnati, my attention was drawn to 
a colored lady dressed in a very plain garb, which reminded me 
somewhat of that worn by the Friends in former days, who was 
engaged in expounding a Bible lesson to a small audience. 

I was told that the speaker was Mrs. Amanda Smith, and that 
she was a woman of remarkable gifts, who had been greatly blessed 
in various parts of the country. 

Having spent nearly all my adult years on the other side of 
the globe, my acquaintance in America was by no means an ex- 
tensive one, and this will explain the fact that I had never heard 
of this devout lady until I met her at this camp meeting. 

Her remarks on the Bible lesson did not particularly impress 
me, and it was not until the evening of the same day. when I 
chanced to be kneeling near her at a prayer meeting, that I be- 
came impressed that she was a person of more than ordinary power. 

The meetings of the day had not been very successful, and a 
spirit of depression rested upon many of the leaders. A heavy 
rain had fallen, and we were kneeling somewhat uncomfortably 
in the straw which surrounded the preacher's stand. 

A number had prayed, and I was myself sharing the general 
feeling of depression, when I was suddenly startled by the voice 
of song. I lifted my head, and at a short distance, probably not 
more than two yards from me, 1 saw the colored sister of the 
morning kneeling in an upright position, with her hands spread 
out and her face all aglow. 

She had suddenly broken out with a triumphant song, and 
while I was startled by the change in the order of the meeting, I 
was at once absorbed with interest in the song and the singer. 



VI. 



Introduction. 



Something like a hallowed glow seemed to rest upon the dark 
face before me, and I felt in a second that she was possessed of a 
rare degree of spiritual power. 

That invisible something which we are accustomed to call 
power, and which is never possessed by any Christian believer 
except as one of the fruits of the indwelling Spirit of God, was 
hers in a marked degree. 

From that time onward I regarded her as a gifted worker in 
the Lord's vineyard, but I had still to learn that the enduement of 
the Spirit had given her more than the one gift of spiritual powi r. 

A week later I met her at Lakeside, Ohio, and was again im- 
pressed in the same way, but I then began to discover that she 
was not only a woman of faith, but that she possessed a clearness 
of vision which I have seldom found equaled. 

Her homely illustrations, her quaint expressions, her warm- 
hearted appeals, all possess the supreme merit of being so many 
vehicles for conveying the living truths of the Gospel of Jesus 
Christ to the hearts of those who are fortunate enough to hear her. 

A few years after my return to India, in 1876, I was delighted 
to hear that this chosen and approved worker of the Master had 
decided to visit this country. She arrived in 1879, and after a 
short stay in Bombay, came over to the eastern side of the empire, 
and assisted us for some time in Calcutta. She also returned two 
years later, and again rendered us valuable assistance. 

The novelty of a colored woman from America, who had in 
her childhood been a slave, appearing before an audience in Cal- 
cutta, was sufficient to attract attention, but this alone would not 
account for the popularity which she enjoyed throughout her 
whole stay in our city. 

She was fiercely attacked by narrow minded persons in the 
daily papers, and elsewhere, but opposition only seemed to add to 
her power. 

During the seventeen years that I have lived in Calcutta, I have 
knoion many famous strangers to visit the city, some of whom attracted 
large audiences, but I have never known anyone icho could draw and 
hold so large an audience as Mrs. Smith. 

She assisted me both in the church and in open-air meetings, 
and never failed to display the peculiar tact for which she is 
remarkable. 

I shall never forget one meeting which we were holding in an 



INTRODUCTION. 



VII. 



open square, in the very heart of the city. It was at a time of no 
little excitement, and some Christian preachers had been roughly 
handled in the same square a few evenings before. I had just 
spoken myself, when I noticed a great crowd of men and boys, 
who had succeeded in breaking up a missionary's audience on the 
other side of the square, rushing towards us with loud cries and 
threatening gestures. 

If left to myself I should have tried to gain the box on which 
the speakers stood, in order to command the crowd, but at the 
critical moment, our good Sister Smith knelt on the grass and be- 
S'an to pray. As the crowd rushed up to the spot, and saAv her 
with her beaming face upturned to the evening sky, pouring out 
her soul in prayer, they became perfectly still, and stood as if 
transfixed to the spot ! Not even a whisper disturbed the solemn 
silence, and when she had finished we had as orderly a meeting as 
if we had been within the four walls of a church! 

In those days a well known theatrical manager, much given 
to popular buffoonery, wrote to me inviting me to arrange to have 
Mrs. Smith preach in his theatre on a certain Sunday evening. I 
was much surprised on receiving the letter, and taking it to her 
told her I did not know what it meant. Several friends, who 
chanced to be present, at once began to dissuade her: 

"Do not go, Sister Amanda,'' said several, speaking at once, 
" the man merely wishes to have a good opportunity of seeing 
you, so that he can take you off in his theatre. He has no good 
purpose in view. Do not trust yourself to him under any circum- 
stances." 

After a moment's hesitation Mrs. Smith replied in language 
which I shall never forget: 

"I am forbidden," she said, "to judge any man. You would 
not wish me to judge you, and would think it wrong if any of us 
should judge a brother or sister in the church. What right have 
I to judge this man? I have no more right to judge him than if 
he were a Christian." 

She said she would pray over it and give her decision. She 
did so, and decided to accept the invitation. 

When Sunday evening came the theatre was packed like a 
herring box, while hundreds were unable to gain admission. I 
took charge of the meeting, and after singing and prayer intro- 
duced our strange friend from America. 



vnf. 



INTRODUCTION. 



She spoke simply and pointedly, alluding to the kindness of 
the manager who had opened the doors of his theatre to her, in 
very courteous terms, and evidently made a deep and favorable 
impression upon the audience. There was no laughing, and no 
attempt was ever made subsequently to ridicule her. As she 
was walking off the stage the manager said to me; 

4 'If you want the theatre for her again do not fail to let me 
know. I would do anything for that inspired woman." 

During Mrs. Smith's stay in Calcutta she had opportunities 
for seeing a good deal of the native community. Here, again, I 
was struck with her extraordinary power of discernment. We 
have in Calcutta a class of reformed Hindus called Brahmos. 
They are, as a class, a very worthy body of men, and f at that 
time were led by the distinguished Keshub Chunder Sen. 

Ever} 7 distinguished visitor who comes to Calcutta is sure to 
seek the acquaintance of some of these Brahmos, and to study, 
more or less, the reformed system which they profess and teach. I 
have often wondered that so few, even of our ablest visitors, seem 
able to comprehend the real character either of the men or of 
their new system. Mrs. Smith very quickly found access to 
some of them, and beyond any other stranger whom I have 
ever known to visit Calcutta, she formed a wonderfully accurate 
estimate of the character, both of the men and of their religious 
teaching. 

She saw almost at a glance all that was strange and all that was 
weak in the men and in their system. 

This penetrating power of discernment which she possesses in 
so large a degree impressed me more and more the longer I knew 
her. Profound scholars and religious teachers of philosophical 
bent seemed positively inferior to her in the task of discovering 
the practical value of men and systems which had attracted the 
attention of the world! 

I have already spoken of her clearness of perception and power 
of stating the undimmed truth of the Gospel of Christ. Through 
association with her, I learned many valuable lessons from her 
lips, and once before an American audience, when Dr. W. F. 
Warren was exhorting young preachers to be willing to learn from 
their own hearers, even though many of the hearers might be 
comparatively illiterate, I ventured to second his exhortation by 
telling the audience that I had learned more that had been of 



Introduction. 



actual value to me as a preacher of Christian truth from Amanda 
Smith than from any other one person I had ever met. 

Throughout Mrs. Smith's stay in India she was always cheerful 
and hopeful. In this respect, too, she differed from most visitors 
to our great empire. Some adopt gloomy views as they look at the 
weakness of Christianity, and observe the stupendous fortifica- 
tions which have been reared b} T the followers of the various false 
religions of the people. 

Some even yield to despair, and refuse to believe that India 
ever can be saved or even benefited, while only a very few are able 
to believe not only that India will yet become a Christian empire, 
but that Christ will yet lift up the people of this land, and so rev- 
olutionize or transform society as it exists to-day, as to make the 
people practically a new people. 

Our good Sister Amanda Smith never belonged to any of these 
despondent classes. 

She sometimes was touched by the pictures of misery which 
she saw around her, but never became hopeless. She was of cheer- 
ful temperament, it is true, but aside from personal feeling, she 
always possessed a buoyant hope and an overcoming faith, which 
made it easy for her to believe that the Saviour, whom she loved 
and served, really intended to save and transform India. 

Soon after Mrs. Smith's visit to India, another Virginian vis- 
ited Calcutta on his way around the globe This was Mr. Moncure 
D. Conway. 

These two persons, Mrs. Smith and Mr. Conway, were repre- 
sentative Virginians. They had been born in the same section of 
the country, brought up as Methodists, and were thoroughly ac- 
quainted, one by observation and the other by experience, with 
the terrible character of the American slave system. 

Mr. Conway in early life was for several years a Methodist 
preacher, but by his own published confession he never compre- 
hended what the true spirit of Methodism was. He was at one 
time a well known and somewhat popular Unitarian minister, but 
finding the Unitarians too narrow and orthodox for a man of his 
liberal mind, he set up an independent church or organization of 
some kind, in London, and preached to an obscure little congrega- 
tion for a number of years, until his last experiment ended in con- 
fessed failure. 

His recorded impressions received in India were of the most 



X, 



INTRODUCTION. 



gloomy kind. He saw nothing to hope for in the condition of the 
people, and looked at them in their helpless state with blank be- 
wilderment, if not despair. He passed thrpugh the empire with- 
out leaving a single trace of light behind him, without making an 
impression for good upon any heart or life, without finding an 
open door by which to make any man or woman happier or better, 
without, in short, seeing even a single ray of hope shining upon 
what he regarded as a dark and benighted land. 

Mrs. Smith, the other Virginian, without a tittle of Mr. Con 
way's learning, and deprived of nearly every advantage which he 
had enjoyed, not only retained the faith of her childhood, but ma- 
tured and developed it until it attained a standard of purity and 
strength rarely witnessed in our world. 

She also came to India, but unlike the other Virginian, she 
cherished hope where he felt only despair, she saw light where he 
perceived only darkness, she found opportunit.es everywhere for 
doing good which wholly escaped his observation, and during her 
two years' stay in the country where she went, she traced out a 
pathway of light in the midst of the darkness! 

As she left the country she could look back upon a hundred 
homes which were brighter and better because of her coming, 
upon hundreds of hearts whose burdens had been lightened and 
whose sorrows had been sweetened by reason of her public and 
private ministry. 

She is gratefully remembered to this day by thousands in the land. 

Her life affords a striking comment at once upon the value of 
the New Testament to those who receive it, both in letter and in 
spirit, and upon the hopelessness of the Gospel of unbelief which 
obtains so wide a hearing at the present day. 

A thousand Virginians of the Conway stripe might come and 
go for a thousand years without making India any better, but a 
thousand Amanda Smiths would suffice to revolutionize an empire! 

I am very glad to learn that Mrs. Smith has at last been in- 
duced to yield to the importunities of friends and prepare a sketch 
of her eventful life. I trust that the story will be told without 
reserve in all its simplicity, as well as in all its strength, and I 
doubt not that God will crown this last of her many labors with 
abundant blessings. 

J. M. Thoburn. 

Calcutta, October 22, 1891. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

CHAPTER I. 17 

BIRTH, PARENTAGE AND DELIVERANCE FROM SLAVERY 
THROUGH THE CONVERSION OF MY MOTHER'S 
YOUNG MISTRESS — MY PIOUS GRANDMOTHER. 

CHAPTER II. 24 

REMOTAL TO PENNSYLVANIA — GOING TO SCHOOL — 
FIRST RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCES — PERNICIOUS 
READING. 

CHAPTER III. . . ... 

SOME OF THE REMEMBRANCES OF MY GIRLHOOD DAYS 

— HELPING RUNAWAYS — MY MOTHER AROUSED 

— A NARROW ESCAPE — A TOUCHING STORY. 

CHAPTER IV. . . . . . 39 

MOVING FROM LOWE'S FARM — MARRIAGE — CONVERSION. 

CHAPTER V. . - . . . .50 

HOW I BOUGHT MY SISTER FRANCES AND HOW THE 
LORD PAID THE DEBT. 

CHAPTER VI. . . . . . 57 

MARRIAGE AND DISAPPOINTED HOPES — RETURN TO 
PHILADELPHIA — A STRANGER IN NEW YORK — 
MOTHER JONES' HELP — DEATH OF MY FATHER. 

CHAPTER VII. ."• . . . . 73 

THE BLESSING — ABOUT SEEKING SANCTIFICATION BY 
WORKS. 



XII. 



Contents. 



CHAPTER VIII 

MY FIRST TEMPTATION, AND OTHER EXPERIENCES — I 
GO TO NEW UTRECHT TO SEE MY HUSBAND — 
A LITTLE EXPERIENCE AT BEDFORD STREET 
CHURCH, NEW YORK — FAITH HEALING. 

CHAPTER IX. .... 

VARIOUS EXPERIENCES — HIS PRESENCE — OBEDIENCE 
— MY TEMPTATION TO LEAVE THE CHURCH — 
WHAT PEOPLE THINK — SATISFIED. 

CHAPTER X 

"THY WILL BE DONE," AND HOW THE SPIRIT TAUGHT 
ME ITS MEANING, ALSO THAT OF SOME OTHER 
PASSAGES OF SCRIPTURE — MY DAUGHTER MAZIE'S 
CONVERSION. 

CHAPTER XI 

MY CALL TO GO OUT — AN ATTACK FROM SATAN — HIS 
SNARE BROKEN — MY PERPLEXITY IN REGARD 
TO THE TRINITY — MANIFESTATION OF JESUS — 
WAS IT A DREAM? 

CHAPTER XII. . 

MY LAST CALL — HOW I OBEYED IT, AND WHAT WAS 
THE RESULT. 

CHAPTER XIII. . 

MY REMEMBRANCES OF CAMP MEETING — SECOND CAMP 
MEETING — SINGING — OBEDIENCE IS BETTER 
THAN SACRIFICE. 

CHAPTER XIV. . . . . . 

KENNEBUNK CAMP MEETING — HOW I GOT THERE, AND 
WAS ENTERTAINED — A GAZING STOCK — HAMIL- 
TON CAMP MEETING — A TRIP TO VERMONT — 
THE LOST TRUNK, AND HOW IT WAS FOUND. 

CHAPTER XV. • . . 

MY EXPERIENCE AT DR. TAYLOR'S CHURCH, NEW YORK, 
AND ELSEWHERE — THE GENERAL CONFERENCE 
AT NASHVILLE — HOW I WAS TREATED AND HOW 
IT ALL CAME OUT — HOW THINGS CHANGE. 



Contents, 



xiii. 



PAGE 

CHAPTER XVI. . . . . 205 

HOW I GOT TO KNOXYILLE. TENN., TO THE NATIONAL 
CAMP MEETING, AND WHAT FOLLOWED. 

CHAPTER XVII 215 

SEA CLIFF CAMP MEETING. JULY. 1872 — FIRST THOUGHTS 
OF AFRICA — MAZIE'S EDUCATION AND MARRIAGE 
— MY EXPERIENCE AT YARMOUTH, 

CHAPTER XVIII 225 

PITTMAN CHURCH. PHILADELPHIA — HOW I BECAME 
THE OWNER OF A HOUSE, AND WHAT BECAME OF 
IT — THE MAYFLOWER MISSION, BROOKLYN — AT 
DR. CUTLER'S. 

CHAPTER XIX. . . . . .240 

BROOKLYN — CALL TO GO TO ENGLAND — BALTIMORE — 
VOYAGE OYER. 

CHAPTER XX. . . . . .255 

LIME STREET STATION, LIVERPOOL. ENGLAND, AND THE 
RECEPTION I MET WITH THERE — PAGES FROM 
MY DIARY. 

CHAPTER XXI. . . . . .266 

VISIT TO SCOTLAND, LONDON. AND OTHER PLACES — 
CONVERSATION WITH A CURATE — GREAT MEET- 
ING AT PERTH — HOW I CAME TO GO TO INDIA. 

CHAPTER XXII 286 

IN PARIS — ON THE WAY TO INDIA — FLORENCE — ROME 
— NAPLES — EGYPT. 

CHAPTER XXIII 300 

INDIA — NOTES FROM MY DIARY — BASSIM — A BLESSING 
AT FAMILY PRAYER — NAINI TAL — TERRIBLE 
FLOODS AND DESTRUCTION OF LIFE. 

CHAPTER XXIV 317 

THE GREAT MEETING AT BANGALORE — THE ORPHANAGE 
AT COLAR — BURMAH — CALCUTTA — ENGLAND, 



XIV. 



Contents. 



page 

CHAPTER XXV. ... . 331 

AFRICA — INCIDENTS OF THE VOYAGE — MONROVIA — 
FIRST FOURTH OF JULY THERE — A SCHOOL FOR 
BOYS — CAPE PALMAS — BASSA — TEMPERANCE 
WORK — THOMAS -ANDERSON 

CHAPTER XXVI 340 

FORTS VILLE — TEMPERANCE MEETINGS — EVIL CUSTOMS 
— THOMAS BROWN — BALAAM — JOTTINGS FROM 
THE JUNK RIVER — BROTHER HARRIS IS SANC- 
TIFIED. 

CHAPTER XXVII 362 

CONFERENCE AT MONROVIA — ENTERTAINING THE 
BISHOP — SIERRA LEONE — GRAND CANARY — A 
STRANGE DREAM — CONFERENCE AT BASSA — 
BISHOP TAYLOR. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. .378 

OLD CALABAR — VICTORIA'S JUBILEE — CAPE MOUNT — 
CLAY- ASHLAND HOLINESS ASSOCIATION — RELIG- 
ION OF AFRICA — TRIAL FOR WITCHCRAFT — THE 
WOMEN OF AFRICA. 

CHAPTERXXIX. .393 

HOW I CAME TO TAKE LITTLE BOB — TEACHING HIM 
TO READ — HIS CONVERSION — SOME OF HIS 
TRIALS, AND HOW HE MET THEM — BOB GOES TO 
SCHOOL. 

CHAPTER XXX. . . .406 

NATIVE BABIES — VISIT TO CREEKTOWN — NATIVE 
SUPERSTITIONS — PRODUCTS OF AFRICA — DISAP- 
POINTED EMIGRANTS. 

CHAPTER XXXI. . . . 418 

liberia — buildings — the rainy season — sierra 
leone — its people — schools — white mis- 
sionaries — common sense needed — brother 
Johnson's experience — how we get on in 

AFRICA. 



Contents. 



xv. 



PAGE 

CHAPTER XXXII 431 

CAPE P ALMAS — HOW I GOT THERE — BROTHER WARE 

— BROTHER SHARPER'S EXPERIENCE — A GREAT 
REVIVAL. 

CHAPTER XXXIII 451 

EMIGRATION TO LIBERIA — SCHOOLS OF LIBERIA — MIS- 
SION SCHOOLS — FALSE IMPRESSIONS — IGNOR- 
ANCE AND HELPLESSNESS OF EMIGRANTS — 
AFRICAN ARISTOCRACY. 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 466 

LETTERS AND TESTIMONIALS — BISHOP TAYLOR — 
CHURCH AT MONROVIA — UPPER CALDWELL — 
SIERRA LEONE — GREENVILLE — CAPE PALMAS 

— BAND OF HOPE TEMPERANCE SOCIETY AT MON- 
ROVIA — LETTERS — MRS. PAYNE — MRS. DENMAN 

— MRS. INSKIP — REV. EDGAR M. LEVY — ANNIE 
WITTENMYER — DR. DORCHESTER — MARGARET 
BOTTOME — MISS WILLARD — LADY HENRY SOM- 
ERSET. 

CHAPTER XXXV 486 

RETURN TO LIVERPOOL — FAITH HEALING — BISHOP 
TAYLOR LEAVES AGAIN FOR AFRICA — USE OF 
MEANS — THE STORY OF MY BONNET ■ — TOKENS 
OF GOD'S HELP AFTER MY RETURN FROM AFRICA. 

CHAPTER XXXVI. . . . 498 

WORK IN ENGLAND — IN LIVERPOOL, LONDON, MAN- 
CHESTER, AND VARIOUS OTHER PLACES — I GO 
TO SCOTLAND AND IRELAND — SECURE PASSAGE 
TO NEW YORK — INCIDENTS OF THE VOYAGE — 
HOME AGAIN — CONCLUDING WORDS, 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



PAGE 

Mrs. Amanda Smith, . . Frontispiece. 

Mr. Samuel Berry, Father of Amanda Smith, . 62 
Mazie D. Smith, . . . ■ ■ .124 

Market Place, Bombay, . . . 300 

Preparing a Meal, Bombay. . . . 304 

Hill Men, Naini Tal, ..... 310 

* Niani Tal, Before the Land Slide, . 314 

Native Christian Family, India, . . 324 

Cooper's Wharf, Monrovia, ..... 332 

The Paine Family, ..... 33G 

Ashman Street, Monrovia, ..... 338 

My First Sunday School, Plukie, . . 348 

Home of President Johnson, . . . 352 

Native Soldiers, Liberia, .... 356 

Home of Late President Roberts, . . . 364 

Kate Roach, Sierre Leone, .... 368 

On the St. Paul River, ..... 372 

General Sherman's House, Monrovia, . 380 

Frances, Native Bassa Girl, . . . 390 

Bob, 396 

Baptist Mission Station, ..... 420 

Boys of Mission School, ..... 422 

Mission School, Rotifunk, ..... 424 

Cape Palmas, . . . . . . 432 

Bishop Taylor Holding a Palaver, . . • 456 

The Receptacle for Emigrants, Liberia, . , 460 



(xvi.) 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY 



OF 

AMANDA SMITH. 



CHAPTER I. 

BIRTH, PARENTAGE AND DELIVERANCE FROM SLAVERY THROUGH 
THE CONVERSION OF MY MOTHER'S YOUNG MISTRESS — MY 
PIOUS GRANDMOTHER. 

I was born at Long Green, Md., Jan. 23rd, 1837. My father's 
name was Samuel Berry. My mother's name, Mariam. Matthews 
was her maiden name. My father's master's name was Darby 
Insor. My mother's master's name, Shadrach Green. The}' lived 
on adjoining farms. They did not own as large a number of black 
people, as some who lived in the neighborhood. My father and 
mother had each a good master and mistress, as was said. After 
my father's master died, his young master, Mr. E., and himself, 
had all the charge of the place. They had been boys together, 
but as father was the older of the two, and was a trustworthy serv- 
ant, his mistress depended on him, and much was entrusted to 
his care. As the distance to Baltimore was only about twenty 
miles, more or less, my father went there with the farm produce once 
or twice a week, and would sell or buy, and bring the money home 
to his mistress. She was very kind, and was proud of him for his 
faithfulness, so she gave him a chance to buy himself. She 

(17) 



18 



Autobiography of 



allowed him so much for his work and a chance to make 
what extra he could for himself. So he used to make brooms 
and husk mats and take them to market with the produce. 
This work he would do nights after his day's work was 
done for his mistress. He was a great lime burner. Then in 
harvest time, after working for his mistress all day, he would 
walk three and four miles, and work in the harvest field till one 
and two o'clock in the morning, then go home and lie down and 
sleep for an hour or two, then up and at it again. He had an 
important and definite object before him, and was willing to sacri- 
fice sleep and rest in order to accomplish it. It was not his own 
liberty alone, but the freedom of his wife and five children. For 
this he toiled day and night. He was a strong man, with an 
excellent constitution, and God wonderfully helped him in his 
struggle. After he had finished paying for himself, the next was 
to buy my mother and us children. There were thirteen children 
in all, of whom only three girls are now living. Five were born in 
slavery. I was the oldest girl, and my brother, William Talbart, 
the oldest boy. He was named after a gentleman named Talbart 
Gossage, who was well known all through that part of the country. 
I think he was some relation of Mr. Ned Gossage, who lost his life 
at Carlisle, Pa., some time before the war, in trying to capture two 
of his black boys who had run away for their freedom. I remem- 
ber distinctly the great excitement at the time. The law then 
was that a master could take his slave anywhere he caught him. 
These boys had been gone for a year or more, and were in Carlisle 
when he heard of their whereabouts. He determined to go after 
them. So he took with him the constable and one or two others. 
Many of his friends did not want him to go, but he would not hear 
them. I used to think how strange it was, he being a professed 
Christian, and a class leader in the Methodist Church, and at the 
time a leader of the colored people's class, that he should be so 
blinded by selfishness and greed that he should risk his own life to 
put into slavery again those who sought only for freedom. How 
selfishness, when allowed to rule us, will drive us on, and make us 
act in spirit like the great enemy of our soul, who ever seeks to 
recapture those who have escaped from the bondage of sin. How 
we need to watch and pray, and on our God rely. 

He did not capture the boys, but in the struggle he lost his 
own life, and was brought home dead. 



Amanda Smith. 



19 



But I turn again to my story. As I have said, my father hav- 
ing paid for himself was anxious to purchase his wife and children; 
and to show how the Lord helped in this, I must here tell of the 
wonderful conversion of my mother's young mistress and of her 
subsequent death, and the marvelous answer to my grandmother's 
prayers. 

There was a Methodist Camp Meeting held at what was at that 
time called Cockey's Camp Ground. It was, I think, about twenty 
miles away, and the young mistress, with a number of other young 
people, went to this meeting. My mother went along to assist and 
wait on Miss Celie, as she had always done. It was an old-fash- 
ioned, red-hot Camp Meeting. These young people went just as 
a kind of picnic, and to have a good time looking on. They were 
staunch Presbyterians, and had no affinity with anything of that 
kind. They went more out of curiosity, to see the Methodists 
shout and hollow, than anything else; because they did shout and 
hollow in those days, tremendously. Of course they were respect- 
ful. They went in to the morning meeting and sat down quietly 
to hear the sermon; then they purposed walking about the other 
part of the day, looking around, and having a pleasant time. As 
they sat in the congregation, the minister preached in demonstra- 
tion of the Power and of the Holy Ghost, My mother said it was 
a wonderful time. The spirit of the Lord got hold of my young 
mistress, and she was mightily convicted and converted right there 
before she left the ground; wonderfully converted in the old- 
fashioned way; the shouting, hallelujah way. Of course it dis- 
gusted those who were with her. They were terribly put out, 
Everything was spoiled, and they did not know how to get her 
home. They coaxed her, but thank the Lord, she got struck 
through. Then they laughed at her a little. Then they scolded 
her, and ridiculed her; but they could not do anything with her. 
Then they begged her to be quiet; told her if she would just be 
quiet, and wait till they got home, and wait till morning, they 
would be satisfied. My mother was awfully glad that the Lord 
had answered her and grandmother's prayer. As I have heard my 
mother tell this story she has wept as though it had just been a 
few days ago. Mother had only been converted about two years 
before this, and had always prayed for Miss Celie, so her heart was 
bounding with gladness when Miss Celie was converted. But of 
course she must hold on and keep as quiet as possible; they had 



20 



Autobiography op 



enough to contend with, with Miss Celie. Mother said she sat in 
the back part of the carriage and prayed all the time. After 
coaxing her awhile she said she would try and keep quiet, and 
wait till morning. But when she got home she could not keep 
quiet, but began first thing to praise the Lord and shout. It 
aroused the whole house, and of course they were frightened, and 
thought she had lost her mind. But nay, verily, she had received 
the King, and there was great joy in the city. They got up and 
wondered what was the matter. They thought she was dreadfully 
excited at this meeting. They did all they could to quiet her, but 
they could not do much with her. But finally they did get her 
quiet and she went to bed. But her heart was so stirred and filled. 
She wanted to go then to where they would have lively meetings. 
She wanted to go to the Methodist church. Oh my! That was 
intolerable. They could not allow that. Then she wanted to go 
to the colored people's church. No, they would not have that. 
So they kept her from going. Then they separated my mother 
and her. They thought maybe mother might talk to her, and 
keep up the excitement. So they never let them be together at all, 
if possible. About a quarter of a mile away was the great dairy, 
and Miss Celie used to slip over there when she got a chance and 
have a good time praying with mother and grandmother. Finally 
they found they could do nothing with Miss Celie. So the young 
people decided they would get together and have a ball and get 
the notion out of her head. So they planned for a ball, and got all 
ready. The gentlemen would call on Miss Celie; she was very 
much admired, anyhow; and they would talk, and they did every- 
thing they could. She did not seem to take to it. But finally she 
said to mother one day, "Well, Mary, it's no use; they won't let 
me go to meeting anywhere I want to go, and I might as well give 
up and go to this ball. " But my mother said , " Hold on, my dear, 
the Lord will deliver you." She used to put on her sunbonnet 
and slip down through the orchard and go down to the dairy and 
tell mother and grandmother; mother used to assist grandmother 
in the dairy. One day mother said she came down and said: 

"Oh! Mary, I can't hold out any longer; they insist on my 
going to that ball, and I have decided to go. It's no use." So 
they had a good cry together, went off and prayed, and that 
was the last prayer about the ball. How strange! And yet God 
had that all in his infinite mercy — opening the prison to them 



Amanda Smith. 



21 



that were bound. Just a week before the ball came off, Miss Celie 
was taken down with typhoid fever. They didn't think she was 
going to die when she was taken down, but they sent for the doc- 
tors, the best in the land. Four of them watched over her night 
and day. Everything was done for her that could be done. She 
always wanted mother with her, to sit up in the bed and hold her; 
she seemed only to rest comfortably then, She seemed to have 
sinking spells. The skill of the doctors was baffled, and they said 
they could not do any more. So one day after one of these sinking 
spells, she called them all around her bed and said: "I want to 
speak to you. I have one request I want to make." 
They said, "Anything, my dear." 

"I want you to promise me that you will let Samuel have 
Mariam and the children. " Then they had my mother get up out 
of the bed at once. Of course they didn't want her to hear that; 
and they said: 

"Now, my dear, if you will keep quiet, you may be a little 
better." And then she went off in a kind of sinking spell. When 
she said this, and they sent my mother out, she ran with all her 
might and told grandmother, and grandmother's faith saw the 
door open for the freedom of her grandchildren; and she ran out 
into the bush and told Jesus. Of course my mother had to hurry 
back so as not to be missed in the house. Miss Celie went on that 
way for three days, and they would quiet her down. When the second 
day came, and she made the request, and they sent my mother 
out, she ran and told grandmother that Miss Celie had made the 
same request; then she ran back to the house again, and grand- 
mother went out and told Jesus. At last it came to the third and 
last day, and the doctor said: "She can only last such a length of 
time without there is a change; so what you do, you must do 
quickly." 

Mother was in the bed behind her, holding her up. She called 
them all again, and said, "I want you to make me one promise; 
that is, that you will let Samuel have Mariam and the children." 

"Oh! yes, my dear," they said, "we will do anything." 

My mother was a great singer. When Miss Celie got the 
promise, she folded her hands together, and leaning her head upon 
my mother's breast she said, "Now, Mary, sing." 

And as best she could, she did sing. It was hard work, for 
her heart was almost broken, for she loved her as one of her own 



32 



Autobiography op 



children. While she sang, Miss Celie's sweet spirit swept through 
the gate, washed in the blood of the lamb. Hallelujah! what a 
Saviour. How marvelous that God should lead in this mysterious 
way to accomplish this end. 

I often say to people that I have a right to shout more than 
some folks; I have been bought twice, and set free twice, and so I 
feel I have a good right to shout. Hallelujah! 

I was quite small when my father bought us, so know nothing 
about the experience of slavery, because I was too young to have 
any trials of it. How well I remember my old mistress. She 
dressed very much after the Friends' style. She was very kind 
to me, and I was a good deal spoiled, for a little darkey. If I 
wanted a piece of bread, and if it was not buttered and sugared on 
both sides, I wouldn't have it; and when mother would get out of 
patience with me, and go for a switch, I would run to my old mis- 
tress and wrap myself up in her apron, and I was safe. And oh! 
how I loved her for that. They were getting me ready for market, 
but I didn't know it. I suppose that is why they allowed me to 
do many things that otherwise I should not have been allowed to 
do. They used to take me in the carriage with them to church on 
Sunday. How well I remember my pretty little green satin hood, 
lined inside with pink. How delighted I was when they used to 
take me. Then the young ladies would often make pretty little 
things and give to my mother for me. Mother was a good seam- 
stress; she used to make all of our clothes, and all of father's every 
day clothes — coats, pants and vests. She had a wonderful faculty 
in this; she had but to see a thing of any style of dress or coat, or 
what-not, and she would come home and cut it out. People used 
to wonder at it. There were no Butterick's patterns then that she 
could get hold of. So one had to have a good head on them if 
they kept nearly in sight of things. But somehow mother was 
always equal to any emergency. My dear old mistress used to 
knit. I would follow her around. Sometimes she would walk out 
into the yard and sit under the trees, and I would drag the chair 
after her; I was too small to carry it. She would sit down awhile, 
and I would gather pretty flowers. When she got tired she would 
walk to another spot, and I would drag the chair again. So we 
would spend several hours in this way. My father had proposed 
buying us some time before, but could not be very urgent. He had 
to ask, and then wait a long interval before he could ask again. 



Amanda Smith. 



23 



Two of the young ladies of our family were to be married, and as 
my brother and myself were the oldest of the children, one of us 
would have gone to one, and one to the other, as a dowry. But 
how God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform. My 
grandmother was a woman of deep piety and great faith. I have 
often heard my mother say that it was to the prayers and mighty 
faith of my grandmother that we owed our freedom. How I do 
praise the Lord for a Godly grandmother, as well as mother. She 
had often prayed that God would open a way so that her grand- 
children might be free. The families into which these young ladies 
were to marry, were not considered by the black folks as good 
masters and mistresses as we had; and that was one of my grand- 
mother's anxieties. And so she prayed and believed that somehow 
God would open a way for our deliverance. She had often tried 
and proved Him, and found Him to be a present help in trouble. 
And so in the way I have already related, the Lord did provide, 
and my father was permitted to purchase our freedom. 
" In some way or other 

The Lord will provide; 

It may not be my way, 

It may not be thy way, 

And yet in His own way, 

The Lord will provide." 



CHAPTER II. 

REMOVAL TO PENNSYLVANIA — GOING TO SCHOOL — FIRST RELIGIOUS 
EXPERIENCES — PERNICIOUS READING. 

After my father had got us all free and settled, he wanted to 
go and see his brother, who had run away for his freedom several 
years before my father bought himself. The laws of Maryland at 
that time were, that if a free man went out of the state and stayed 
over ten days, he dost his residence, and could be taken up and sold, 
unless some prominent white person interposed; and then some- 
times with difficulty they might get him off. But many times 
poor black men were kidnapped, and would be got out of the way 
quick. For men who did that sort of business generally looked 
out for good opportunities. My mother's people all lived in Mary- 
land. She hated to leave her mother, my dear grandmother, and 
so never would consent to go North. But when my father went 
away to see his brother, and stayed over the ten days, she thought 
best to go. Poor mother ! How well I remember her. After a 
week how anxious she was. She used to sit by the fire nearly all 
night. It was in the fall of the year I know, but I am not able to 
tell just what year it was. After my father's death, my sister, 
not knowing the value of the free papers, allowed them all to be 
destroyed. We were all recorded in the Baltimore court house. 
Many times I had seen my father show the papers to people. They 
had a large red seal — the county seal — and my father, or any of us 
traveling, would have to show our free papers. But those I have 
not got, so cannot tell the year or date. But, by and by, the ninth 
day came. I saw my mother walk the floor, look out of the win- 
dow, and sigh. I used to get up out of my bed and sit in the 
corner by the fire and watch her, and see the great tears as she 
would wipe them away with her apron. She would say; "Amanda, 
why don't you stay in bed? " 

(24) 



Amanda Smith. 



25 



I would make an excuse to stay with her. Sometimes I would 
cry and say I was sick. Then she would call me to her and let me 
lay my head in her lap ; and there is no place on earth so sweet to 
a child as a mother's lap. I can almost feel the tender, warm, 
downy lap of my mother now as I write, for so it seemed to me. 
I loved my father, and thought he was the grandest man that ever 
lived. I was always the favorite of my father, and I was sorry 
enough when he was away, and when I saw my mother cry, I 
would cry, too. Ten days had passed, and father had not come 
yet. 

Every day some of the good farmers around would call to see 
if " Sam " had got home yet. My father was much respected by 
all the best white people in that neighborhood, and many of them 
would not have said anything to him ; but, "If nothing was said 
to Insor's Sam about going out of the state and staying over ten 
days, why all the niggers in the county would be doing the same 
thing! 

So this was the cause of the inquiry. Oh! no one knows the 
sadness and agony of my poor mother's heart. Finally the day 
came when father returned. Then the friends, white and black, 
who wished him well, advised him to leave as quickly as possible. 
And now the breaking up. We were doing well, and father and 
mother had all the work they could do. The white people in the 
neighborhood were kind, and gave my mother a good many things, 
so that we children always had plenty to eat and wear. We had 
a house, a good large lot, and a good garden, pigs, chickens, and 
turkeys. And then my mother was a great economist. She could 
make a little go a great ways. She was a beautiful washer and 
ironer, and a better cook never lifted a pot. I get my ability in 
that (if I have any) from my dear mother. Then withal she was 
an earnest Christian, and had strong faith in God, as did also my 
grandmother. She was deeply pious, and a woman of marvelous 
faith and prayer. For the reason stated my parents determined 
to move from Maryland, and so went to live on a farm owned by 
John Lowe, and situated on the Baltimore and York turnpike m 
the State of Pennsylvania. 

My father and mother both could read. But I never remem- 
ber hearing them tell how they were taught. Father was the 
better reader of the two. Always on Sunday morning after break- 
fast he would call us children around and read the Bible to us. I 



20 



Autobiography of 



never knew him to sit down to a meal, no matter how scant, but 
what he would ask God's blessing before eating. Mother was very 
thoughtful and scrupulously economical. She could get up the 
best dinner out of almost nothing of anybody I ever saw in my 
life. She often cheered my father's heart when he came home at 
night and said : 4 4 Well, mother, how have you got on to-day? " 

44 Very well," she would say. It was hard planning sometimes; 
yet we children never had to go to bed hungry. After our even- 
ing meal, so often of nice milk and mush, she would call us chil- 
dren and make us all say our prayers before we went to bed. I 
never remember a time when Iwent to bed without saying the 
Lord's Prayer as it was taught me by my mother. Even before 
we were free I was taught to say my prayers. 

I first went to school at the age of eight years, to the daughter 
of an old Methodist minister named Henry Dull; my teacher's 
name was Isabel Dull. She taught a little private school opposite 
where my mother lived, in a private house belonging to Isaac 
Hendricks (Bishop Hendricks' grandfather). She was a great 
friend of my mother's, and was very pretty, and very kind to us 
children. She taught me my first spelling lesson. There was 
school only in the summer time. I had about six weeks of it. I 
first taught myself to read by cutting out large letters from the 
newspapers my father would bring home. Then I would lay them 
on the window and ask mother to put them together for me 
to make words, so that I could read. I shall never forget how 
delighted I was when I first read: 44 The house, the tree, the 
dog, the cow." I thought I knew it all. I would call the other 
children about me and show them how I could read. I did not 
get to go to school any more till I was about thirteen years old. 
Then we had to go about five miles, my brother and myself. 
There were but few colored people in that part of the country at 
that time, to go to school ( white school ), only about five and they 
were not regular; but father and mother were so anxious for us to 
go that they urged us on, and I was anxious also. I shall never 
forget one cold winter morning. The sun was bright, the snow 
very deep, and it was bitterly cold. My brother did not go that 
day, but I wanted to go. Mother thought it was too cold; she 
was afraid I would freeze; but I told her I could go, and after a 
little discussion she told me I might go. She told me I could put 
on my brother's heavy boots. I had on a good thick pair of stock- 



Amanda Smith. 



27 



ings, a warm linsey-woolsey dress, and was well wrapped up. Off 
I started to my two and a half mile school house, — John Rule's 
school house on the Turnpike. The first half mile I got on pretty 
well, a good deal up hill, but O how cold I began to get, and being 
so wrapped up I couldn't get on so well as I thought I could. I 
was near freezing to death. My first thought was to go back, but 
I was too plucky, I was afraid if I told mother she wouldn't let 
me go again, so I kept still and went. When I got to the school 
house door, I found I couldn't open it and couldn't speak, and a 
white boy came up and said, "Why don't you go in?" Then I 
found I couldn't speak, as I tried and couldn't. He opened the 
door and I went in and some one came to me and took off my things 
and they worked with me, I can't tell how long, before I recovered 
from my stupor. There were a great many farmers' daughters, 
large girls, and boys, in the winter time, so that the school would 
be full, so that after coming two and a half miles, many a day I 
would get but one lesson, and that would be while the other schol- 
ars were taking down their dinner kettles and putting their wraps 
on. All the white children had to have their full lessons, and if 
time was left the colored children had a chance. I received in all 
about three months' schooling. 

At thirteen years of age I lived in Strausburg, sometimes it 
was called Shrewsbury, about thirteen miles from York, on the 
Baltimore and York turnpike. I lived with a Mrs. Latimer. She 
was a Southern lady, was born in Savannah, Georgia. She was a 
widow, with five children. It was a good place, Mrs. Latimer was 
very kind to me and I got on nicely. It was in the spring I went 
there to live, and sometime in the winter a great revival broke out 
and went on for weeks at the Allbright Church. I was deeply 
interested and impressed by the spirit of the meeting, It was an 
old-fashioned revival, scores were converted. No colored persons 
went up to be prayed for; there were but few anywhere in the 
neighborhood. One old man named Moses Rainbow, and his two 
sons, Samuel and James, were the only colored people that lived 
anywhere within three or four miles of the town. This meeting 
went on for four or five weeks. When it closed a series of meet- 
ings commenced at the Methodist Church. 

One of the members was Miss Mary Bloser, daughter of George 
Bloser, well known through all that region of country for his deep 
piety and Christian character, as was Miss Mary, also. She was 



28 



Autobiography of 



powerful in prayer. I never heard a young person who knew how 
to so take hold of God for souls. She was a power for good every- 
where she went. How man} r souls I have seen her lead to the 
Cross! 

One night as she was speaking to persons in the congrega- 
tion, she came to me, a poor colored girl sitting away back by the 
door, and with entreaties and tears, which I really felt, she asked me 
to go forward. I was the only colored girl there, but I went. She 
knelt beside me with her arm around me and prayed for me. O, 
how she prayed! I was ignorant, but prayed as best I could. The 
meeting closed. I went to get up, but found I could not stand. 
They took hold of me and stood me on my feet. My strength 
seemed to come to me, but I was frightened. I was afraid to step. 
I seemed to be so light. In my heart was peace, but I did not 
know how to exercise faith as I should. I went home and resolved 
I would be the Lord's and live for him. All the days were happy 
and bright. I sang and worked and thought that was all I needed 
to do. Then I joined the Church. I don't remember the name 
of the minister, but I well remember the name of my class leader 
was Joshua Ludrick. I liked him for his lung power, for I 
thought then there was a good deal of religion in loud prayers and 
shouts. You could hear him pray half a mile when he would get 
properly stirred. He was leader of the Sunday morning class, 
which convened after the morning preaching. My father and 
mother, to encourage me in my new life, joined the Church and 
the same class, so as to save me from going out at night. Mrs. 
Latimer's children, three of them, went to the Sunday School, and 
I must get home so as to have dinner in time for the children to 
get off, but I was black, so could not be led in class before a white 
person, must wait till the white ones were through, and I would 
get such a scolding when I got home, the children would all be so 
vexed with me, and Mrs. Latimer, and my troubles had begun. I 
prayed and thought it was my cross. I thought I will change my 
seat in the class, maybe that will help me, and sat in the first end 
of the pew, as the leader would always commence on the first end 
and go down. When I sat in the first end, then he would com- 
mence at the lower end and come up and leave me last. Then I 
sat between two, thinking he would lead the two above me and 
then lead me in turn, but he would lead the two and then jump 
across me and lead all the others and lead me last. I told my 



Amanda Smith. 



29 



father I got scolded for getting home so late and making the chil- 
dren late for school. Father said he would speak to Mr. Ludrick 
about it, but if he did, it made no change, and it came to where I 
must decide either to give up my class or my service place. We 
were a large family, and father and mother thought I must keep 
my situation, so I had to give up my class. It did not do me 
much good, anyhow, to be scolded every time I went, so I became 
careless and lost all the grace I had, if I really had any at all. I 
was light hearted and gay, but I always would say my prayers and 
read my Bible and good books and meant to get religion when I 
knew I could keep it. I wouldn't be a hypocrite, no, not I, so I 
went on, wrapped up in myself. Then I began to watch defects 
in professors, which is a poor business for any one. That is not 
the way to get near to God. I saw many things and heard many 
things said and done by professors that I would not do, I was 
much better than they were, so I went on in my own way for 
awhile. 

[t has been years ago. While living at Black's hotel, in 
Columbia, I remember reading a book. I forget the title of it, but 
it was an argument between an infidel and a Christian minister. 
As I went on reading I became very much interested. "Oh," I 
thought to myself, " I know the Christian minister will win." It 
starts with the infidel asking a question. The minister's answer 
took two pages, while the question asked only took one page and a 
half. As they went on the minister gained three pages with his 
answer; and the infidel seemed to lose. And then it went on, and 
by and by the minister began to lose, and the infidel gained. So it 
went on till the infidel seemed to gain all the ground. His ques- 
tions and argument were so pretty and put in such a way that 
before I knew it I was captured; and by the time I had got through 
the book I had the whole of the infidel's article stamped on my 
memory and spirit, and the Christian's argument was lost; I could 
scarcely remember any of it. Well, I was afraid to tell any one. 
Oh, if any one should find out that I did not believe in the exist- 
ence of God. I longed for some one to talk to that I might empty 
my crop of the load of folly that I had gathered. And I read 
everything I could get my hands on, so as to strengthen me in my 
new light, as I thought. Yet I wanted to forget it, and get out of 
it. But it was like a snare; I could not. A year had gone. I 
talked big and let out a little bit now and then. How beautiful 
the old hymn: 



30 



Autobiography of 



" When Jesus saw me from on high, 

Beheld my soul in ruin lie, 

He looked at me with pitying eye, 

And said to me as he passed by, 
'With God you have no union.' " 
Oh, how true! I longed for deliverance, but how to get free. 
The Lord sent help in this way: My aunt, my mother's half sister, 
who now lives in Baltimore, and whom I loved very much, came 
up to York, and then to Wrightsville, to visit father and us chil- 
dren. I lived in Columbia; and I went over to see her and had 
her come over with me. "Now," I thought, "this will be my 
chance to unburden by heart. Aunt lives away down in the 
country in Quaker Bottom, or in the neighborhood of Hereford, 
Md., and I know no one there, and no one knows me; I shall never 
be there; and just so that no one knows around here, that is all I 
care for." 

My aunt was very religiously inclined, naturally. She was 
much like my mother in spirit. So as we walked along, crossing 
the long bridge, at that time a mile and a quarter long, we stop- 
ped, and were looking off in the water. Aunt said, "How won- 
derfully God has created everything, the sky, and the great 
waters, etc." 

Then I let out with my biggest gun; I said, "How do you 
know there is a God?" and went on with just such an air as a 
poor, blind, ignorant infidel is capable of putting on. My aunt 
turned and looked at me with a look that went through me like an 
arrow; then stamping her foot, she said: 

" Don't you ever speak to me again. Anybody that had as 
good a Christian mother as you had, and was raised as you have 
been, to speak so to me. I don't want to talk to you." And God 
broke the snare. I felt it. I felt deliverance from that hour. 
How many times I have thanked God for my aunt's help. If she 
had argued with me I don't believe I should ever have got out of 
that snare of the devil And I would say to my readers, "Beware 
how you read books tainted with error." There are enough of th£ 
orthodox kind that will help you if you will be content with them, 
and the Book of books. Amen. 



CHAPTER III. 



SOME OF THE REMEMBRANCES OF MY GIRLHOOD DAYS — HELPING * 
R CTK AW AYS — MY MOTHEB AROUSED — A NARROW ESCAPE — 
A TOUCHING STORY. 

The name of my father's landlord was John Lowe, he was a 
wealthy farmer, lived between New Market and Shrewsbury, Pa. 
Pretty much all the farmers round about in those days were anti- 
slavery men; Joseph Hendricks, Clark Lowe, and a number of 
others. My father worked a great deal for Isaac Hendricks, who 
used to keep the Blueball Tavern. I and the children have gath- 
ered many a basket of apples out of the orchard, and many a pail 
of milk I have helped to carry to the house, and often at John 
Lowe's as well; I used to help them churn often. And then old 
Thomas Wantlen, who used to keep the store; how well I remem- 
ber him. John Lowe would allow my father to do what he could 
in secreting the poor slaves that would get away and come to him 
for protection. At one time he was Magistrate, and of course did 
not hunt down poor slaves, and would support the law whenever 
things were brought before him in a proper way. but my father 
and mother were level headed and had good broad common sense, 
so they never brought him into any trouble. Our house was one 
of the main stations of the Under Ground Railroad. My father 
took the " Baltimore Weekly Sun" newspaper: that always had 
advertisements of runaway slaves. After giving the cut of the 
poor fugitive, with a little bundle on his back, going with his face 
northward, the advertisement would read something like this: 
Three thousand dollars reward! Ran away from Anerandell 
County. Maryland, such a date, so many feet high, scar on the 
right side of the forehead or some other part of the body. — belong- 
ing to Mr. A. or B. So sometimes the excitement was so high we 

(31) 



32 



Autobiography of 



had to be very discreet in order not to attract suspicion. My father 
was watched closely. 

I have known him to lead in the harvest field from fifteen to 
twenty men — he was a great cradler and mower in those days — 
and after working all day in the harvest field, he would come 
home at night, sleep about two hours, then start at midnight and 
walk fifteen or twenty miles and carry a poor slave to a place of 
security; sometimes a mother and child, sometimes a man and 
wife, other times a man or more, then get home just before day. 
Perhaps he could sleep an hour then go to work, and so many 
% times baffled suspicion. Never but once was there a poor slave 
taken that my father ever got his hand on, and if that man had 
told the truth he would have been saved, but he was afraid. 

There was a beautiful woods a mile from New Market on 
the Baltimore and York Turnpike; it was called Lowe's Camp 
Ground. It was about three quarters of a mile from our house. 
My mother was a splendid cook, so we arranged to keep a boarding 
house during the camp meeting time. We had melons, and pies 
and cakes and such like, as well. Father was very busy and had 
not noticed the papers for a week or two, so did not know there 
was any advertisement of runaways. There were living in New 
Market certain white men that made their living by catching run- 
away slaves and getting the reward. A man named Turner, who 
kept the post office at New Market, Ben Crout, who kept a regular 
Southern blood-hound for that purpose, and John Hunt. These 
men all lived in New Market. Then there was a Luther Amos, 
Jake Hedrick, Abe Samson and Luther Samson, his son. I knew 
them all well. Samson had a number of grey-hounds. So these 
fellows used to watch our house closely, trying every way to catch 
my father. One night during camp meeting, between twelve and 
one o'clock, we children were all on the pallet on the floor It w as 
warm weather, and father and mother slept in the bed. A man 
came and knocked at the door. Father asked who was there? He 
said "A friend. I hear you keep a boarding house and I want to 
get something to eat." 

Father told him to come in. He had everything but hot 
coffee — so he went to work and got the coffee ready. Father 
talked with him. The man was well dressed. He had changed 
his clothes, he said, as he had been traveling, and it was dusty, 
and he was on his way to the camp meeting. This is what he said 



Amanda Smith. 



33 



to my father. So by and by the coffee was ready, and father set 
him down to his supper. This man had come through New Mar- 
ket, and Ben Crout and John Hunt, who had read the advertise- 
ment, saw this man answered the description and hoping to catch 
my father, told him to come to our house and all about my father 
having a boarding house and all about the camp meeting. It was 
white people's camp meeting, but colored people went as well; it 
used to be the old Baltimore camp, so called, and so that was the 
way the poor man knew so well what to say. He had come away 
from Louisiana, and had been two weeks lying by in the day time 
and traveling at night, but had got so hungry he ventured into this 
town, and these men were looking for him. but he did not know 
it. When they saw him they knew he answered the advertise- 
ment given in the paper, for it was always explicitly given: the 
color, the height and scars on any part of his body. Well, just 
about the time the man got through with his supper, some one 
shouted, "Halloo! " Father went to the door. There were six or 
seven white men, and they said. "We want that nigger you are 
harboring, he is a runaway nigger." 

•'I am not harboring anybody," father said. Then they 
began to curse and swear and rushed upon him. The man jumped 
and ran .up stairs. My mother had a small baby. Of course she 
was frightened and jumped up. and they were beating father and 
tramping all over us children on the floor. We were screaming. 
There stood in the middle of the floor an old fashioned ten plate 
stove. There was no fire in it. of course, and as my poor fright- 
ened mother ran by it trying to defend father, she caught her 
wrapper m the door, just as a man cut at her with a spring dirk 
knife: it glanced on the door instead of on mother. I have thanked 
God many a time for that stove door. But for it my poor mother 
would have been killed that night. The poor man jumped out of 
the window up stairs and ran about two hundred yards, when Ben 
Crout's blood-hound caught him and held him till they came. 
When they found the man was gone, they left off beating father 
and went for the man. That was the first and last darkey they 
ever got out of Sam Berry's clutches. Tt put a new spirit in my 
mother. She cried bitterly, but O. when it was all over how she 
had gathered courage and strength. The good white people all over 
the neighborhood were aroused, but he was so close to the Mary- 
land line they had him in Baltimore a few 7 hours from then. And, 
poor fellow. w r e never heard of him afterwards. 



34 



Autobiography of 



Some time, about three or four months after this, along in the 
fall, we were sleeping upstairs. One night about twelve o'clock a 
knock came on the fence. My father answered and went down 
and opened the door. Mother listened and heard them say "run- 
away nigger." She sprang up, and as she ran downstairs she 
snatched down father's cane, which had a small dirk in it; she 
went up and threw open the door, pushed father aside, but he got 
hold of her, but O, when she got through with those men ! They 
fell back and tried to apologize, but she would hear nothing. 

" I can't go to my bed and sleep at night without being hounded 
by you devils," she said. 

Next morning father went off to work, but mother dressed her- 
self and went to New Market ; as she went she told everybody she 
met how she had been hounded by these men. Told all their 
names right out, and all the rich respectable people cried shame, 
and backed her up. Dr. Bell, the leading doctor in New Market, 
who himself owned three or four slaves, stood by my mother and 
told her to speak of it publicly; so she stood on the stepping stone 
at Dr. Bell's, right in front of the largest Tavern in the place. 
There were a lot of these men sitting out reading the news. The 
morning was a beautiful Fall morning, and she opened her mouth 
and for one hour declared unto them all the words in her heart. 
Not a word was said against her, but as the spectators and others 
looked on and listened the cry of "Shame! Shame!" could be 
heard ; and the men skulked away here and there. By the time 
she got through there was not one to be seen of this tribe. That 
morning, as mother went to New Market, this same blood-hound 
of Ben Crout's was lying on the sidewalk, and as mother went on 
a lady she used to work for, a Mrs. Rutlidge, saw the dog and saw 
mother coming. She threw up her hand to indicate to her the 
dangerous animal. They generally kept her fastened up, but this 
morning she was not. Mother paid no attention but went on. 
Mrs. R. clasped her hands and turned her back expecting every 
moment to hear mother scream out. She looked around and 
mother was close by the dog and stepped right over her. She was 
so frightened she said: " O, Mary, how did you get by that dread- 
ful dog of Ben Crout's? " 

Mother was wrothy, and said, "I didn't stop to think about 
that dog," and passed on. And this was the wonder to everybody 
around. It was the great talk of the day all about the country, 



Amanda Smith. 



85 



how that Sam Berry's wife had passed Ben Grout's blood-hound 
and was not hurt. Then they began to say she must have had 
some kind of a charm, and they were shy of her. Ever after that 
nobody, black or white, troubled Sam Berry's wife. It was no 
charm, but was God's wonderful deliverance. 

About two years or more after this, the papers were full of 
notices of a very valuable slave who had run aAvay, A heavy re- 
ward was offered. He had by God's mercy got to us, and by mov- 
ing the poor fellow from place to place he had been kept safe for 
about two weeks, as there was no possible chance for father or any 
one to get him away, so closely were we watched. My father was 
a very early riser, always up and out about day dawn. Our house 
stood in the valley between two hills, so that the moment you 
struck the top of the hill, either way coming or going, you could 
see every move around our house. Just on the opposite side of the 
road there used to stand two large chestnut trees, but these had 
been blown down by a great storm some time before, so there was 
no screen to hide the house from full view. This morning, while 
out in the yard feeding the pigs, he saw four men coming on horse- 
back. He knew they were strangers. He could not get in the 
house to tell mother, so he called to her and said: "Mother, I see 
four men coming: do the best you can." 

She must act in a moment without being able to say a word 
more to father. The poor slave man was upstairs. She brought 
him down and put him between the cords and straw tick. As it 
was early in the morning her bed was not made up. In the old- 
fashioned houses in the country we did not have parlors. The 
front room downstairs was often used as the bed-room. My little 
brother, two years old, slept in the foot of the bed. The men rode 
up and spoke to my father. He was a very polite man. ''Good 
morning, gentlemen, good morning, you are out quite early this 
morning." 

"Yes, we are looking for a runaway nigger." Just then my 
father recognized the high sheriff as Mr. E., who was formerly 
his young master. "Why, is this is not Mr. E. ? " 

"Yes, Sam, didn't you know me?" 

My father made a wonderful time over him, laughed heartily 
^.nd said: "What in the world is up?" 

"Do you know anything about this runaway?" 

Another spoke up and said: "We have a search warrant and 



36 



Autobiography op 



we mean to have that nigger. We want to know if you have him 

hid away." 

"Well," father said, " if I tell you I have not, you won't believe 
me; if I tell you I have, it will not satisfy you, so come in and look." 

He didn't know a bit what mother had done, but he knew she 
had a head on her, and he could trust her in an emergency. The 
men hesitated and said: "It is no use for us to go in, if you will 
just tell us if you have him or know anything about him." And 
father said: "You come in, gentlemen, and look." 

They said, "We have heard your wife is the devil," and then, 
speaking very nicely, "You know, Sam, we don't want any trouble 
with her, you can tell us just as well." 

"No, gentlemen, you will be better satisfied if you go in and 
see for yourselves." 

Just then mother, in the most dignified and polite manner, 
threw open the door and said: "Good morning, gentlemen, come 
right in." So they laughed heartily. Two dismounted and came 
in, went upstairs, looked all about while one looked in the kitchen 
behind the chimney, in the pot closet; and my mother went to the 
bed and threw back the cover (she knew what cover to throw back, 
of course,) there lay my little brother. She said: "Look every- 
where, maybe this is he?" 

"My! Sam," one of them said, "here is a darkey, what will 
you take for him?" 

"No, you have not money enough to buy him," father said. 
Then mother said: "Now, gentlemen, look under the bed as well; 
you haven't examined everything here," and they laughed and 
ran out and said: "Well, Sam, we see you haven't got him." 

And father said: "Well, now you are better satisfied after 
you have looked yourselves." So he didn't tell any lie, but he had 
the darkey hid just the same! 

They mounted their horses and went off full tilt to York. We 
children were sharp enough never to show any sign of alarm. Poor 
me, my eyes felt like young moons. The man was safe. After 
they had got away, mother got the poor fellow out, and he was so 
weak he could scarcely stand. He trembled from head to foot, and 
cried like a child. Poor fellow, he thought he was gone, and but 
for my noble mother he would have been. We soon got him off to 
Canada, where, I trust, he lived to thank and praise God, who 
delivered him from the hand of his masters. 



Amanda Smith. 



37 



I can't tell just how long it was after this occurrence, but it 
was in harvest time. My father had got home from work and was 
sitting out in the front yard resting himself; it was just beginning 
to get dusk. We children were all around playing. A tall, well- 
built man came up to the fence. Father said: "Good evening, 
my friend." The poor man trembled, and said: "I don't know if 
you are a friend or a foe, but I am at your mercy." 

"Don't fear," said father, "you are safe." Then he sat on 
the fence a while and began to tell his sad story. His feet had 
become so sore he could not travel. He had come away from New 
Orleans. He said his master owned a large sugar plantation and 
he was one of the head molasses boilers. His master was a very 
passionate man, and had threatened several times to sell him 
because he was a Christian and would pray, but he was a valuable 
man and so he held on; but he had committed a great offense this 
time. He said he was very tired, and, something he never did in 
his life before, he fell asleep from sheer weariness, and so burnt 
many hogsheads of molasses, and this so enraged his master that 
he determined to sell him. He had a wife and three children, if 
I remember correctly. His master had him handcuffed and put 
in the cellar under the house, till the Georgia traders came. When 
the money was paid they generally had a great time drinking and 
gambling. He said he could not get to see his wife. O, how he 
prayed all day and. all night. His young mistress, whom he had 
often nursed when she was a little child and whom he used often 
to carry about from place to place, was very much attached to 
him, as was frequently the case. She had been away North to 
school and was a Christian, and that may explain what followed. 
She was home from school just at this time, and like Queen Esther, 
when pleading for her people, she was made queen just in time. 
The evening before the morning he was to be taken away they 
were having a good jollification time. She waited till they were 
all full of excitement, and being a great favorite of her father's 
she managed to get the keys of the cellar and went in and unlocked 
his handcuffs and made him swear to heron his knees that if they 
ever caught him he would never betray her. Then she told him 
which way to go, to follow the North Star, which most of the 
slaves seemed to understand and travel by. She gave him a little 
money and something to eat. He prayed for God's blessing on 
her, and told her he would die if he was taken, but would never 



38 



Autobiography op 



betray her; so he would. I shall never forget how he cried as he 
told this story to my father. He said he had traveled for three 
weeks, and after his food was all gone he lived on berries, black- 
berries were just ripe. He would lie by in the day and travel at 
night; kept in the woods, never traveled in day time, only when it 
would rain. We soon took him in and got water and bathed his 
feet. Mother got him a good supper. O, how the poor man ate; 
he was nearly starved. We kept him about two weeks, and then 
succeeded in getting him otf to dear old Canada. O, how much 
this poor slave man went through for only the liberty of his body, 
and yet how few there are that are willing to make any sacrifice 
to secure the freedom of souls that Jesus so freely offers, for if the 
Son shall make you free then are ye free, indeed. Thank God, 
these days of sadness are past, never to be repeated, I trust. The 
poor man, I suppose, never heard of his wife and children, for this 
was years before the war and it was not likely they ever met on 
earth again, but I trust they will meet beyond the river where the 
surges cease to roll. 



CHAPTER IV. 

MOVING FROM LOWE'S FARM. — MARRIAGE. — CONVERSION. 

After twelve years on John Lowe's farm, my father had an 
offer from a man named John Bear; it was between five and six 
miles from where we were. It was a small farm and my father 
had a better chance to help himself. He used to work a good deal 
in Strausburg then. Dr. Bull and his brother, Rev. Wesley Bull, 
lived in Strausburg. My oldest brother lived with the doctor a 
long time and took care of his horses. The doctor married a Miss 
Jane Berry, daughter of old Colonel Berry, of Baltimore. They 
first settled in Strausburg. I lived with them some time. How 
well I remember the old Colonel; he used to come to visit them, 
and was very kind to me. Would often speak to me about my 
soul's interest, but I was young and did not pay much attention 
at the time, but I never forgot it. After a time Dr. Bull moved to 
Baltimore, and Dr. Turner, who married Miss Julia Berry, Mrs. 
Bull's sister, lived in Strausburg, then I lived with Dr. Turner. 
How well I remember Dr. and Mrs. Turner. They were very fond 
of Maryland biscuit, and though I was young, I had the reputation 
of making the best Maryland biscuit and frying the nicest chicken 
of anyone around there, and the doctor used to say "Amanda can 
beat them all making Maryland biscuit and frying chicken." My! 
how it did please me! Somehow it is very encouraging to servants 
to tell them once in a while that they do things nicely; it did me 
good. I would almost kill myself to please them, and Doctor 
Turner's mother, dear Mrs. Flynn, what a good woman she was! 
She gave me the first Testament I ever had and used to come into 
the kitchen and read to me sometimes. She came several times 
on a visit to see Dr. and Mrs. Turner. After a time Dr. Turner 
moved back to Baltimore again, I went with them. It was my 
first time in Baltimore. We got in at night and I remember how 
I had never seen fine lights glittering in drug stores before, and as 

(39) 



Autobiography of 



we drove along I thought I never saw such pretty houses in my 
life. O, I was thoroughly captivated. We had a long way to 
drive from the station then. Col. Berry lived at Poplar Grove, 
just a little out of Baltimore. Dear old Mrs. Berry, Mrs. Turner 
and the Doctor, and the old Colonel met us at the station. How 
well I remember the old home in the grove; it was the fall of the 
year; it was not late, but the fires were lighted and all was so 
cheery. I remember Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, the three children, Miss 
Petty and Missie, and little Berry and Mr. Somerfield, Miss Emily 
and Miss Eliza. Dr. Turner took a house in town on the corner of 
Franklin and Pearl streets, Baltimore. I remained till Christmas, 
then my mother came to see me and I went home with her. Some 
time after that Dr. Waugh moved to Strausburg; Bishop AVaugh's 
con. I remember the Bishop and Mrs. Waugh well. I always 
admired Mrs. Dr. Waugh so much; she never seemed to be cross 
about anything, nor at any time. The Doctor, too, was very 
gentle and quiet, but Mrs. Bishop was not so much so, though she 
was very nice. Mrs. Doctor did not like Strausburg, so they did 
not stay very long, but returned to Baltimore again. In the 
course of time Rev. Isaac Collis was appointed to the First Metho- 
dist Church, and I went to live with them a few months. My 
father used to do all their gardening. When their time was out 
they moved away. O, what changes have been since then; the 
most of these have gone to their reward, but some of their children 
and grandchildren still live. Dear Mrs. Turner's daughter, Mrs. 
Wilson now, whose husband is pastor of Wesley Chapel in Wash- 
ington, is her mother right over again in kindness and amiableness 
of disposition. Mr. Wilson, her husband, is a noble man of God. 
I shall never forget their kindness to me last October, the time of 
the great Ecumenical conference. Mrs Burres asked me to lead 
the holiness meeting that is held at the Wesley chapel every 
Wednesday at 11 o'clock, and when the meeting closed who 
should come and speak to me but dear Mrs. Wilson and her hus- 
band. Then she told me who she was, Mrs. Turner's daughter. 
She was married and had two lovely children. Mr. Wilson and 
she invited me to their home to lunch with them. Well, I thought 
that is a big thing to be invited to lunch, for I had walked about 
for two days and there was not a restaurant in the great capital of 
Washington where a colored Christian lady or gentleman could go 
and sit down and get a cup of tea or a dinner; and now to be 



Amanda Smith. 



41 



invited here to lunch, I thought what does it really mean? Of 
course I accepted the invitation. I had thought Washington was 
like Boston or London. I had no such difficulty there. Thank 
God for real, practical, inright, outright, downright common 
sense; that is all I think people need on the color line. May the 
Lord give it to us quick. Amen. Dear Mr. and Mrs. Wilson 
lacked nothing in that line. God bless them! When I went I was 
shown into the parlor; my wraps were taken, and in a little while 
Mrs. Wilson came in. We had a pleasant little chat, then came 
her sister; I was introduced. She was so nice, then the dear little 
children. In a little while then Mr. Wilson came with a gentle- 
man from the conference, then a lady and gentleman who were their 
guests. I was introduced to all as easily and naturally and common 
sense-like as possible. Then we went to lunch. The little girl took 
me by the hand and she and I led the way. The little thing was 
so nice she said, " Are you going to sit at the table with me?" 

"Would you like me to do so? " 

11 Yes." 

I don't suppose this was an everyday oc'currence; it is not 
necessary that it should be so, but when occasions do come, all 
that is really needed is simple, real, manly, broad, Christian com- 
mon sense. Mr. Wilson sat at the head of the table, I at the 
risrht, and the dear little girl next, and her little brother next and 
the others in order. We had an elegant lunch, and a very pleas- 
ant and profitable time together. We talked about India. Africa, 
Paris, Rome. Egypt. Scotland, Ireland, and the Isles of the Sea, 
and ended, I believe, with the Hero of the Congo. Bishop Taylor. 
We went upstairs, and after a little further chat Mr. Wilson 
asked me to sing and pray with them. I sang several songs. One 
was: — " The very same Jesus." 

" The very same Jesus, 
The very same Jesus, 
O praise His name; 
He is just the same, 
The very same Jesus." 
The other one was: — 

" God is able to deliver thee 
Though by sin oppressed; 
Go to Him for rest, 
Our God is able to deliver thee." 



Autobiography of 



The Lord blest the singing to them, and our hearts were 
melted, then we knelt to pray. O, how the Lord helped me to 
pray. My own heart was overflowing with gratitude for the kind- 
ness shown me, for I recognized the hand of God in it all, and so 
praised Him. Amen. 

In September, 1854, I was married to my first husband, C. 
Devine, by the Rev. Nicholas Pleasant, a Baptist minister in 
Columbia. My father did not object to my marrying, only on the 
ground that I was rather young, and I thought so, too, but still, 
like so many young people, I said, " But well, I know I can get 
on." Then there was the fellow saying all the nice things he 
would do for me, and I believed it all, of course. But it was not 
long before I wished I had not believed half he said, though in 
many things he was good. He believed in religion for his moth- 
er's sake. She was a good woman, he said, though I never saw 
her. He had two sisters who lived in Columbia. He could talk 
on the subject of religion very sensibly at times; but when strong 
drink would get the better of him, which I am very sorry to say 
was quite often, then he was very profane and unreasonable. We 
had two children. The first died; the other, my daughter Maze, 
is now married and living in Baltimore. 

In 1855 I was very ill. Everything was done for me that 
could be done. My father lived in Wrightsville, Pa., and was 
very anxious about my soul. But I did not foel a bit concerned. 

I wanted to be let alone. How I wished that no one would 
speak to me. One day my father said to me, "Amanda, my 
child, you know the doctors say you must die; they can do no 
more for you, and now my child you must pray." 

O, I did not want to pray, I was so tired I wanted to sleep. 
The doctors said they must keep me aroused. In the afternoon of 
the next day after the doctor had given me up, I fell asleep about 
two o'clock, or I seemed to go into a kind of trance or vision, and 
I saw on the foot of my bed a most beautiful angel. It stood on 
one foot, with wings spread, looking me in the face and motioning 
me with the hand; it said "Go back," three times, "Go back, Go 
back, Go back." 

Then, it seemed, I went to a great Camp Meeting and there 
seemed to be thousands of people, and I was to preach and the 
platform I had to stand on was up high above the people. It 
seemed it was erected between two trees, but near the tops. How 



Amanda Smith. 



43 



I got on it I don't know, but I was on this platform with a large 
Bible opened and I was preaching from these words: — ki And I if 
I be lifted up will draw all men unto me." O, how I preached, 
and the people were slain right and left. I suppose I was in this 
vision about two hours. When I came out of it I was decidedly 
better. When the doctor called in and looked at me he was 
astonished, but so glad. In a few days I was able to sit up, and 
in about a week or ten days to walk about. Then I made up my 
mind to pray and lead a Christian life. I thought God had 
spared me for a purpose, so I meant to be converted, but In my 
own way quietly. I thought if I was really sincere it would be 
all right. 

I cannot remember the time from my earliest childhood 
that I did not want to be a Christian, and would often pray 
alone. Sometimes I would kneel in the fence corner when I went 
for the cows to bring them home. Sometimes upstairs, or 
wherever I could be alone,. I had planned just about how 
I was going to be converted. I had a strong will and was full of 
pride. When I said I would not do anything, I was proud of my 
word, and people would say, "Well, you know if Amanda says 
she won't do anything, you might as well try to move the ever- 
lasting hills." And that inflated me and I thought, " O, how 
nice to have a reputation like that." I would stick to it; I would 
not give in; my pride held me. I went on in this course till 1856. 

In a watch meeting one night at the Baptist Church in Colum- 
bia, Pennsylvania, a revival started. I lived with Mrs. Morris, 
not far away, and I could hear the singing, but I did not mean to 
go forward to the altar to pray: I didn't believe in making a great 
noise. I said, "If you are sincere the Lord will bless you any- 
where, and I don't mean to ever go forward to the altar; that I 
will never do." So I prayed and struggled day after day, week 
after week, trying to find light and peace, but I constantly came 
up against my will. God showed me I was a dreadful sinner, but 
still I wanted to have my own way about it. I said, " I am not so 
bad as Bob Loney, Meil Snievely, and a lot of others. I am not 
like them, I have always lived in first-class families and have 
always kept company with first-class servant girls, and I don't 
need to go there and pray like those people do." All this went on 
in my mind. 

At last one night they were singing so beautifully in thl4 



44 



Autobiography of 



Church,. I felt drawn to go in, and went and sat away back by 
the door and they were inviting persons forward for prayers. 
O, so many of them were going, the altar was filled in a little 
while, and though I went in with no intention of going myself, as 
I sat there all at once, — I can't tell how, — I don't know how, — I 
never did know how, but when I found myself I was down the 
aisle and half way up to the altar. All at once it came to me, 
"There, now, you have always said you would never go forward 
to an altar, and there you are going. " 

I thought I would turn around and go back, but as I went to 
turn facing all the congregation, it was so far to go back, so I 
rushed forward to the altar, threw myself down and began to pray 
with all my might: " O, Lord, have mercy on me! O, Lord, have 
mercy on me! O, Lord, save me," I shouted at the top of my 
voice, till I was hoarse. Finally I quieted down. There came a 
stillness over me so quiet. I didn't understand it. The meeting 
closed. I went home. 

If I had known how to exercise faith, I would have found 
peace that night, but they did not instruct us intelligently, so I 
was left in the dark. A few days after this I took a service place 
about a mile and a half from Columbia, with a Quaker family 
named Robert Mifflins. This was in January. I prayed inces- 
santly, night and day, for light and peace. 

After I had got out to Mr. Mifflins', I began to plan for my 
spring suit; I meant to be converted, though I had not given up at 
all, but I began to save my money up now. There were some 
pretty styles, and I liked them. A white straw bonnet, with very 
pretty, broad pink tie-strings; pink or white muslin dress, tucked 
to the waist; black silk mantilla; and light gaiter boots, with 
black tips; I had it all picked out in my mind, my nice spring and 
summer suit. I can see the little box now where I had put my 
money, saving up for this special purpose. Then I would pray; 
Oj how I prayed, fasted and prayed, read my Bible and prayed, 
prayed to the moon, prayed to the sun, prayed to the stars. I was 
so ignorant. O, I wonder how God ever did save me, anyhow. 
The Devil told me I was such a sinner God would not convert me. 
When I would kneel down to pray at night, he would say, "You 
had better give it up; God won't hear you, you are such a sinner. " 

Then I thought if I could only think of somebody that had 
not sinned, and my idea of great sin was disobedience, and I 



Amanda Smith. 



45 



thought if I could only think of somebody that had always been 
obedient. I never thought about Jesus in that sense, and yet I 
was looking to Him for pardon and salvation. 

All at once it came to me, "Why, the sun lias always obeyed 
God, and kept its place in the heavens, and the moon and stars 
have always obeyed God, and kept their place in the heavens, the 
wind has always obeyed God, they all have obeyed." 

So I began, " O, Sun, you never sinned like me, you have 
always obeyed God and kept your place in the heavens; tell Jesus 
I am a poor sinner." Then when I would see the trees move by the 
wind, I would say, " O, Wind, you never sinned like me, you have 
always obeyed God, and blown at His command; tell Jesus I am a 
poor sinner." 

When I set my people down to tea in the house I would slip 
out and get under the trees in the yard and look up to the moon 
and stars and pray, " O, Moon and Stars, you never sinned like me, 
you have always obeyed God, and kept your place in the heavens; 
tell Jesus I am a poor sinner." One day while I was praying I got 
desperate, and here came my spring suit up constantly before me, 
so I told the Lord if he would take away the burden that was on 
my heart that I would never get one of those things. I wouldn't 
get the bonnet, I wouldn't get the dress, I wouldn't get the man- 
tilla. I wouldn't get the shoes. O, I wanted relief from the burden 
and then all at once there came a quiet peace in my heart, and 
that suit never came before me again; but still there was darkness 
in my soul. On Tuesday, the 17th day of March, 1856, I was sit- 
ting in the kitchen by my ironing table, thinking it all over. The 
Devil seemed to say to me (I know now it was he), "You have 
prayed to be converted." 

I said, " Yes." 

M You have been sincere." 

"Yes." 

44 You have been in earnest.'* 
" Yes." 

14 You have read your Bible, and you have fasted, and you 
really want to be converted." 

"Yes, Lord, Thou knowest it; Thou knowest my heart, I 
really want to be converted." 



Then Satan said, "Well, if God were going to convert you He 
would have done it long ago; He does His work quick, and with 
all your sincerity God has not converted you." 



46 



Autobiography of 



44 Yes, that is so." 

44 You might as well give it up, then," said he, "it is no use, 
He won't hear you " 

"Well, I guess I will just give it up. I suppose I will be 
damned and I might as well submit to my fate." Just then a 
voice whispered to me clearly, and said, " Pray once more." And 
in an instant I said, "I will." Then another voice seemed like a 
person speaking to me, and it said, 44 Don't you do it." 

44 Yes, I will." 

And when I said, 44 Yes, I will," it seeemed to me the empha- 
sis was on the 44 will," and I felt it from the crown of my head 
clear through me, 44 1 WILL," and I got on my feet and said, " I 
will pray once more, and if there is any such thing as salvation, I 
am determined to have it this afternoon or die." 

I got up, put the kettle on, set the table and went into the 
cellar and got on my knees to pray and die, for I thought I had 
made a vow to God and that He would certainly kill me, and I 
didn't care, I was so miserable, and I was just at the verge of des- 
peration. I had put everything on the table but the bread and 
butter, and I said, 44 If any one calls me I won't get up, and if the 
bread and butter is all that is to go on the table, Miss Sue (the 
daughter) can finish the supper, and that will save them calling 
for me, and when they come down cellar after it they will find me 
dead!" 

I set the tea pot on the table, put the tea cady down by it, so 
that everything would be ready, and I was going to die; and O, 
Hallelujah, what a dying that was! I went down into the cellar 
and got on my knees, as I had done so many times before, and I 
began my prayer. 44 O Lord, have mercy on my soul, I don't 
know how else to pray." A voice said to me, 44 That is just what 
you said before." 

44 O, Lord, if Thou wilt only please to have mercy on my soul 
I will serve Thee the longest day I live." 

The Devil said, 44 You might just as well stop, you said that 
before." 

44 O, Lord, if Thou wilt only convert my soul and make mo 
truly sensible of it, for I want to know surely that I am converted, 
I will serve Thee the longest day I live." 

44 Yes," the Devil says, 44 you said that before and God has not 
done it, and you might as well stop." 



Amanda Smith. 



47 



O, what a conflict. How the darkness seemed to gather 
around me, and in my desperation I looked up and said, " O, Lord, 
I have come down here to die, and I must have salvation this 
afternoon or death. If you send me to hell I will go, but convert 
my soul." Then I looked up and said, " O, Lord, if thou wilt only 
please to help me if ever I backslide don't ever let me see thy face 
in peace." And I waited, and I did not hear the old suggestion 
that had been following me, " That is just what you said before," 
so I said it again, "O, Lord, if Thou wilt only please to convert 
my soul and make me truly sensible of it, if I backslide don't ever 
let me see Thy face in peace." 

I prayed the third time, using these same words. Then some- 
how I seemed to get to the end of everything. I did not know 
what else to say or do. Then in my desperation I looked up and 
said, " O, Lord, if Thou wilt help me I will believe Thee, 1 ' and in 
the act of telling God I would, I did. O, the peace and joy that 
'flooded my soul! The burden rolled away; I felt it when it left 
me, and a flood of light and joy swept through my soul such as I 
had never known before. I said, ""Why, Lord, I do believe this is 
just what I have been asking for," and down came another flood 
of light and peace. And I said again, "Why, Lord, I do believe 
this is what I have asked Thee for." Then I sprang to my feet, 
all around was light, I was new. I looked at my hands, they 
looked new; I took hold of myself and said, "Why, I am new, I 
am new all over." I clapped my hands; I ran up out of the cellar, 
I walked up and down the kitchen floor. Praise the Lord! There 
seemed to be a halo of light all over me; the change was so real 
and so thorough that I have often said that if I had been as black 
as ink or as green as grass or as white as snow, I would not have 
been frightened. I went into the dining room; we had a large 
mirror that went from the floor to the ceiling, and I went and 
looked in it to see if anything had transpired in my color, because 
there was something wonderful had taken place inside of me, and 
it really seemed to me it was outside too, and as 1 looked in the 
glass I cried out, "Hallelujah, I have got religion; glory to God. I 
have got religion! " I was wild with delight and joy; it seemed 
to me as if I would split! I went out into the kitchen and I 
thought what will I do, T have got to wait till Sunday before I can 
tell anybody. This was on Tuesday; Sunday was my day in town, 
so I began to count the days, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursdav. 



48 



Autobiography of 



Friday, Saturday, Sunday. O, it seemed to me the days were 
weeks long. My! can I possibly stand it till Sunday? I must tell 
somebody, and as I passed by the ironing table it seemed as if it 
had a halo of light all around it, and I ran up to the table and 
smote it with my hand and shouted, " Glory to God, I have got 
religion f " The Lord kept me level-headed and didn't make me 
so excited I didn't know what I was doing. Mrs. Mifflin was very 
delicate; she had asthma, and I knew if I said anything to excite 
her it might kill her, and the Lord kept me so I didn't make any 
noise to excite her at all. I didn't tell her; didn't feel led to tell 
her. There was no one in the house at the time, not a soul. She 
was on the front veranda and I had it all to myself in the kitchen. 
O, what a day! I never shall forget it; it was a day of joy and 
gladness to my soul. After I had been converted about a week I 
was very happy. One morning it seemed to me I didn't know what 
to do with myself, I was so happy. I was singing an old hymn, — 

" O how happy are they, who their Saviour obey, 
And have laid up their treasures above; 
Tongue can never express the sweet comfort and peace, 
Of a soul in its earliest love." 

When I got to the verse: — 

"When my heart, it believed, what a joy I received, 
What a heaven in Jesus' name; 
'Twas a heaven below, my Redeemer to know, 

And the angels could do nothing more 
Than to fall at His feet, and the story repeat, 

And the Lover of sinners adore." 

O, how my soul was filled. Just then the enemy whispered 
to me, " There, you are singing just as if you had religion." 

"Well, I have. I asked the Lord to convert me and He has 
done it." 

" How do you know? " 

"Well I know He did it, because it was just what I asked the 
Lord to do, and He did, and I know He did, for I never felt as I do 
now, and I know I am converted." 

"You have a great blessing," the Devil said, " But how do you 
know that is conversion? " 

" Well," I said, " That is what I asked the Lord to do and I 
believe He did it." 



Amanda Smith. 



49 



"You know, you don't want to be a hypocrite? " 
"No, and I will not be, either." 
"But you have no evidence." 

" Evidence, evidence, what is that ? " Then I thought, I won- 
der if that is not what the old people used to call the witness of 
the Spirit. "Well," I said, ''I won't sing, I won't pray until I 
get the witness. " So I began and 1 held this point; God helped 
me to hold this point. I said. ''Lord I believe Thou hast con- 
verted my soul, but the Devil says I have no evidence. Xow Lord 
give me the evidence," and I prayed a whole week. Every now 
and then the joy would spring up in my heart, the burden was all 
gone, I had no sadness, I could not cry as I had before, and I did 
not understand it and so I kept on pleading, "Lord. I believe 
Thou hast converted me, but give me the evidence, so clear and 
definite that the Devil will never trouble me on that line again." 

Praise the Lord, He did, and though I have passed through 
many sorrows, many trials. Satan has buffeted me, but never from 
that day have I had a question in regard to my conversion. God 
helped me and He settled it once for all. 

This witness of God's spirit to my conversion has been what 
has held me amid all the storms of temptation and trial that I 
have passed through. O what an anchor it has been at time of 
storm. Hallelujah, for the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth. Ye 
shall know if ye follow on to know the Lord. Amen. Amen. 



CHAPTER V. 



HOW I BOUGHT MY SISTER FRANCES AND HOW THE LORD PAID 

THE DEBT. 

It was in September, 1862. The Union soldiers were stationed 
all along the line, from Havre de Gras and Monkton, Md. My 
aunt, my mother's sister, lived about a mile and a half from Here- 
ford, on the old homestead, where my grandmother lived and died. 
After the death of my mother there were six of us children at 
home with father. My aunt, who had been married about two 
years, wanted my father to let one of my sisters go with her to 
Maryland. She had but one child of her own at that time, and 
she wanted my sister to be company for her little child, and to 
look after him, as she worked out by the day very often. So my 
father gave her my sister Frances, who was then about ten years 
old. It was not very safe for colored people to pass up and down, 
but sometimes they could do it without being molested at all. My 
aunt used to come back and forth once a year to the camp meet- 
ing, as many of the colored people, round about did. The camp 
meeting was then called the old Baltimore Camp. It was held on 
Lowe's camp-ground. My sister was very anxious to go with my 
aunt. She promised to take very good care of her, so father was 
quite willing to have her go. She had been there about three 
years, I think; my aunt then had two children; and my sister took 
care of them while she would be away at work every day; of 
course things didn't always go on with children as they should, 
and then my aunt was very severe on Frances; several times she 
whipped her very severely, so that the neighbors interfered, and 
that made unpleasant feelings between the neighbors and my 
aunt. Word came to my father about it, but he could not go very 
well, nor did any of the rest feel that we could go; there was 
so much excitement about the war we did not like to risk it. 

(50) 



Amanda Smith. 



51 



After the war had begun, these soldiers were stationed, as I have 
said, and I had made up my mind that I would risk it, and go and 
See about my sister. Prior to this my aunt had written father that 
Frances had got very unruly, and when she would whip her she 
would run away, and that she had gone off somewhere, and he 
must come and see after her, I was living in Lancaster, Pa., with 
Col. H S. McGraw's family. I got six dollars a month. I told 
Mrs. McGraw about my sister, and told her I thought it was safe 
for me to go now; that I would be safer under the protection of 
the Union soldiers. I got her to advance me fifty dollars and I 
started on my journey down to Monkton. I went to Little York, 
Pa., and from York to Monkton, Md. I got to my aunt's house 
about one o'clock in the afternoon. She was not at home. "The 
children were there, and they told me Frances was living with Mr. 
Hutchinson. "Well, I didn't know where Mr. Hutchinson lived, 
but by inquiring got on the right road. Finally I came to the 
man who had been magistrate in that part of the country; I 
wanted to see him, for I had heard in that time my sister had 
been sold, so I went in to inquire what could be done. My sister 
was born free — born in Pennsylvania — and my father and mother 
were free, and I wanted to see what could be done. He told me 
that Frances had run off from my aunt and come to their house, 
and as he saw she had been very badly treated, and as she was 
very kind to the children, his wife thought they would keep her. 
She came to him for protection. Well, just at that time they were 
selling black people; every one they could pick up anywhere that 
could not prove they were free born, were sold for so much. My 
aunt was a little vexed, so she did not bother about Frances, and 
my father could not go and swear for her, consequently she was 
sold to Mr. Hutchinson for a term of ten years. He told me that 
all I could do was to see Mr. Hutchinson, and if he would consent 
to give her up, I could get her by paying him what he paid for 
her. He said there was nobody to come forward and swear for 
her, and he saw she was not kindly treated, but that was all he 
could do about it. He did not take much pains to give me satis- 
faction. Oh! those were times! However, after he told me what 
he did, I started for Mr Hutchinson's. My! how I cried. How 
I thought of my dear mother. I was all alone. I walked and 
prayed. I had had nothing to eat all day. I was very hungry. I 
had passed several farm-houses, and wanted tu go in and ask for a 



52 



Autobiography of 



drink of water, but I was afraid. Finally I came to a very fine 
house, standing back from the road; beautiful grounds, green 
grass and trees, a beautiful white veranda, and an old lady in a 
white cap, sitting out on the veranda; there was a pump in the 
yard, with a nice bright tin cup hanging on it, but there was a 
large dog lying on the stoop, so I stood at the gate a moment; the 
old lady got up and walked to the end of the veranda, and I called 
out to her, "Madame, I'm very thirsty; will you please let me 
come in and get a drink of water? " She said " No, no; go on, go 
on." I nearly fainted for a moment, and I lifted my heart and 
said, "Now, Lord, help me, and take away the thirst; " and in an 
instant every bit of thirst and hunger left me; I had not a bit, no 
more than if I never had been thirsty. I walked on about a mile 
further in the sun; I got to Mr. Hutchinson's and saw my poor 
sister. I don't think I ever saw a heathen in Africa, that looked 
so much like a heathen as she did. I could hardly speak to her. 
She was busy at work, and seemed to be happy, but I was not. I 
told her I had come after her, and to see Mr. Hutchinson. Poor 
thing, she was so glad to see me! 

I don't know how many black people Mr. Hutchinson owned; 
he was excited over the war; and while he was considered to be a 
very good man to his black people, yet he was rough when I told 
him what my errand was. When I told him my sister was free- 
born, was not a slave and never had been, he simply said he had 
nothing to do with that; he had paid forty dollars for her, and he 
was not going to let her go for less. Well, I didn't know what to 
do. I cried, but he raved; he swore, and said Frances had not 
been of any use anyhow. At first he said he would not let her go 
at all. Then he went into the house. His wife was a very nice 
woman. How well I remember her. I cried, and cried, and 
could not stop. I was foolish, but I could not help it. She said 
something to him. He went into the house, and by and by he 
came back and said he was not going to let her go for less than 
forty dollars. Then my sister told me if I would go over to Mrs. 
Hutchinson's father's (I think his name was Matthews, and he 
was a Quaker), and see him, she thought he might help me. They 
were very nice people, and had always been kind to her. It was 
about a quarter of a mile across the fields. So I went over there 
and old Mr. Matthews told me I was to go on back, and next 
morning he would ride over. So, sure enough; next morning the 



Amanda Smith. 



53 



old man came over. He pitied me, I saw, but he could not help 
me much. Mr. Hutchinson walked up and down and swore. I 
told Mr. Matthews that I had no money scarcely, and I did not 
know how to get back if I paid out the forty dollars. I would only 
have enough to get back to York, and how was I going to get from 
York to Lancaster, where I lived, and get my sister there besides? 
Well, Mr. Hutchinson said, he had nothing to do with that. So 
he told my sister she could get ready and go. I paid him the 
money. Then she got ready. She went to get her shawl, and he 
said to her she should not have anything but what she had on. 
They had given her a shawl, a dress and a pair of great big brogan 
shoes; and they let her take the dress (a blue cotton striped) she 
had on; madame had given her a gingham apron; that she was 
to leave. So we started; just what she stood up in, with one 
domestic dress under her arm, was all she had. He flourished the 
horse-whip around so I didn't know but we were both going to get 
a flogging before we left; but we got out without the flogging. 
But oh! wasn't he mad! I thanked the Lord for the old Quaker 
gentleman. But for him it would have been much worse. Then 
how I prayed the Lord would bless Mrs. Hutchinson. I believe 
she was good. There were a number of little black children 
around there, and Mr. Hutchinson was kind to them, and played 
with them, and put them on the horse and held them on to ride, 
and they seemed to be very fond of him. But then they were 
slaves. What a difference it made in his feelings toward them. 
My sister was free. He had not any business with her, and I had 
no right to pay him any money; and if I had had as much sense 
then as I have now, I would not have paid him a cent; I would 
have just waited till he went to bed, and taken the underground 
railroad plan. But it is all over now, and my poor sister has long 
since gone to her reward. 

When I came back to Lancaster, to Mrs. McGraw's, she allowed 
me to bring my sister there, and she helped around with the work 
till I got her trained somewhat; for she had always worked in the 
field, and had very little idea about housework. Now I worked, 
as it were, for a dead horse; for I was in debt to Mrs. McGraw 
fifty dollars. She paid me my wages regularly, but there was 
this debt; and with Frances on my hands, I was not able to pay a 
cent of the fifty dollars. Oh! how it worried me. I hated to 
think of it; T hated so to have debt. But then I could not help it, 



54 



Autobiography of 



and I had no one to help me. My sisters were all poor, and worked 
hard for themselves. Father was not able to help me. One day 
Mr. Robert McGraw, Col. McGraw's brother, came to spend some 
time with them in Lancaster. He was a man that had plenty of 
means, and was very generous. I was always very glad when Mr. 
Robert came to see them. I was always sure of two dollars and 
fifty cents or five dollars when he went away. We dined at three 
o'clock in the afternoon; had breakfast at nine. Mr. Robert had 
had his breakfast and gone down town. He went into a bank to 
get a bill changed. He had four one hundred dollar bills rolled 
together. He went into the bank and got one bill changed as he 
went down in the morning. He came back at three o'clock to 
dinner. After dinner was over he always came out in the kitchen 
to light his cigar. Mrs. McGraw's son, Henry, a boy of about ten 
years of age, had a very fine dog, and thought a great deal of him. 
I was very particular about my kitchen, and they would come out 
into the kitchen and get to playing, and would sometimes make 
my kitchen look pretty well upset. Of course I didn't say any- 
thing, for Mr. Robert was kind; but I did not like it. Now, when 
he got the bill changed and went to put the three hundred dollars 
back in his pocket, instead of putting the money into his pocket, 
he slipped it inside his pants; and strange as it may seem, he had 
come all the way home and it was not lost on the street. But 
while he was playing in the kitchen with little Henry after dinner 
it slipped down and dropped on the floor. It just looked like a 
piece of paper he had twisted up to light his cigar. I saw it lying 
there, but did not bother to pick it up at first. He had gone away 
down street. It was a little rainy. After awhile the dog came 
running in to go upstairs after Henry. The middle door was shut 
and he could not get upstairs. As he came back past me I went 
to give him a send off with my foot, and kicked this roll of paper 
that lay there. Something seemed to whisper to me, "You had 
better pick that up and look at it. It might be a twenty dollar 
bank note." So I picked it up; and Oh, my! in all my born days 
did I ever have such a surprise. Three hundred dollars! Three 
one hundred dollar bills on the Baltimore bank! My! But I said, 
"This is Mr. Robert McGraw's." Mrs. McGraw was very kind, 
but I knew if I gave it to her that I would not get more than a 
dollar; but if I kept it and gave it to Mr. Robert I was sure he 
would give me five dollars. There was no one in the kitchen but 



Amaxda Smith 



55 



myself. The other two servants were upstairs. So I said to 
myself. "Mr. Robert will be here in a few minutes. " This was 
between half past four and five o'clock in the afternoon. I said 
nothing to any one. Mr. Robert did not come till along about six 
or seven o'clock in the evening. I had not said a word to any- 
body. The suggestion came to me. "Now this is a good chance 
for you to get out of debt to Mrs. McGraw. Xone of these bills 
are marked, and you can take it to the bank and give it to some- 
body and you can get that money." I let all these thoughts play 
through my mind, and then I said. " Xow, Mr. Devil, you lie. I 
don't mean to get into any trouble about that money at all." 
After awhile I heard some one coming, talking, and I saw two or 
three persons. Mr. Robert did not come in at the front door: he 
came around through the yard and came in at the side door. Two 
boys were with him. and they had lanterns, and 'they had looked 
all along the street for this money. 

This is the way he missed it. He went into a barber shop to 
get shaved. After he was shaved he put his hand into his pocket 
to get the money to pay for it. and found that he had only the 
money that he had got changed. The other bills were gone. He 
was very jolly, and said, I have lost three or four hundred dollars: 
I don't know which. I will give fifty dollars if I can find it." And 
of course they were all out looking for it, So he came into the 
yard. 

"TVhat is the matter. Mr. Rob-rt? " 

"Amanda." he replied. "I have lost three or four hundred 
dollars,'' and then saying a word with two d's in it, he said he 
didn't know which, and continued looking about with the boys. 
I said. "My. Mr. Robert, three hundred dollars?" 

''Yes. three or four. I don't know which. I will give fifty 
dollars if I can find it." 

As soon as he said. "I will give fifty dollars if I can find it." 
I said "Mr. Robert, what did you say? " 

'•I said I will give fifty dollars if I can find it." Then he 
looked up at me through his glasses, and I said. "I wonder if I 
can find it," and at the same time reached way down in my pocket. 

''Amanda." he said, "did you find it 0 " 

"Hold on: wait till I se^." And making a desperate effort I 
hauled it out. There were the three one hundred dollar bills. 
My! weren't the boys surprised! He turned right around to the 



Autobiography of 



flour chest that stood in the kitchen and counted me out fifty 
dollars in ten dollar bills. 

I got down on my knees right there and then and thanked the 
Lord, and Mr. Robert said, 44 Oh, Amanda, it's all right, it's all 
right; you are welcome to it." 

And that is the way the Lord got me out of that debt. 44 In 
some way or other the Lord will provide." Amen. Amen. 



CHAPTER VI. 



MARRIAGE AND DISAPPOINTED HOPES — RETURN TO PHILADELPHIA 
— A STRANGER IN NEW YORK — MOTHER JONES ' HELP — DEATH 
OF MY FATHER. 

After my conversion I continued to live in Columbia, Pa., a 
year or two; then went to live at Colonel McGraw's in Lancaster, 
about ten miles from Columbia, where I remained some four or 
five years. In the meantime the civil war had broken out, and 
my husband, in common with so many others, enlisted and went 
South with the army, from which he never returned. From Lan- 
caster I went to Philadelphia, where I remained at service with 
different families for several years. There I became acquainted 
with James Smith, a local preacher, to whom I was subsequently 
married. 

When the first few months after my marriage to James Smith 
had passed, things began to get very unsatisfactory. My husband 
had one grown daughter, eighteen years of age, by a former mar- 
riage, and I had one daughter, about nine years old, by my first 
marriage. At times, things in the house were very unpleasant. I 
was greatly disappointed, perhaps I had expected too much of my 
husband. He was a local preacher and an ordained deacon in the 
A. M. E. Church. My first husband was not a professing Chris- 
tian at all, neither was I when I married him. During the years 
of my widowhood I boarded my little girl, here a while and then 
there. Sometimes she was well taken care of and at other times 
was not; for I found that often people do things just for the little 
money they get out of it; and when I would go and see the condi- 
tion of my poor child, and then had to turn away and leave her 
and go to my work I often cried and prayed; but what could I do 
more? I had not yet learned to trust God fully for all things. 

One reason for my marrying a second time was that I might have 

(57) 



58 



Autobiography of 



a Christian home and serve God more perfectly. I thought to marry 
a preacher would be the very thing, though notwithstanding, I 
prayed earnestly for light and guidance from the Lord, and I 
believe, now, he gave it me, but I did not walk in it. How sorry 
I have been many times since. I told my husband how, since my 
conversion, I felt it my duty to be an Evangelist. He quite agreed 
to it all, and told me he was preparing himself to join the Confer- 
ence and so go into the itinerant work. He explained and rea- 
soned it all so well, and, of course, I had learned to love him, and 
that went a good ways towards making everything look very plausi- 
ble, notwithstanding the light the Lord had given me. I said the 
Lord knows the deep desire of my heart is to work for Him, and I 
could help my husband so much in his work. I had seen and 
known the influence of a minister's wife, and how much she could 
help her husband or hinder him to a great extent in his work. 
Mr. Smith said that was just the kind of a wife he wanted. I 
remembered Rev. Joshua Woodland and his wife, how they used 
to go about among the people and make them feel they were of 
them, and all who knew them loved them; and so with my pastor, 
Rev. L. Patterson and his wife. She would lead prayer meeting 
and pray with the sick and dying, and was a beautiful house- 
keeper with all, and all these just suited me, and I thought how 
nice it will be to be able to do so much good, and beside to be 
spoken of as "Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Smith." I thought I saw it 
clearly, and I said, yet after all, this looks like the Lord's will. At 
that very hour Satan had gained the victory over me and yet I did 
not know it was he. After I had given my consent I went to the 
Lord to have it ratified, but not a ray of light came. I felt sad, 
but what could I do? I said when the Conference comes and Mr. 
Smith gets his appointment I will begin work at once with the 
people, and I will then get light and liberty of soul and will be all 
right, so this cheered me; but O, the subtilty of Satan, how he 
can transform himself into an angel of light to deceive even to 
this day. 

The marriage was over and the Conference came. For several 
weeks prior to the session of the Conference I saw that my husband 
did not seem to be interested and studious as he had been, and 
when I would speak to him about it he would be cold and indiffer- 
ent. O, how indescribably sad I felt; I was frightened. Now I 
thought if he changes his mind and does not join the Conference, 



Amanda Smith. 



59 



what will I do? I felt I could not stand the disappointment. My 
heart was sad, yet I tried to hope all through. I watched my hus- 
band, but he was still indifferent. One day he came home from 
the Conference quite out of sorts with the Bishop and all the 
brethren, and I knew from the way he expressed himself all was 
up for my good work as a pastor's wife: but I prayed with what 
spirit was left in me and hoped that at the last things would come 
out all right. Finally, the Conference closed and the appoint- 
ments were read. I said to my husband: "Are you not going to- 
night to hear the appointments?" 

"No, I don't want to hear them;" so I went out alone. It 
seemed to me I could scarcely walk to the church — old Bethel 
Church, on Sixth street, Philadelphia. I went in, sat down and 
listened to the long list of appointments read. James Smith's 
name was not there. I said, can it be I have heard rightly. I 
saw my mistake, Satan had deceived me. "O, Lord." I said, 
"what shall I do?" I went home and asked my husband all 
about it. 

I shall never forget how he took me on his lap and kindly put 
his arm around me and said; tenderly, "My dear, I was afraid to 
tell you what was really in my heart, I was afraid you would not 
marry me." 

"But how could you deceive me so?" 

"I knew it was wrong," he said, "but you will forgive me?" 

Of course, I would, and did. but the remembrance was griev- 
ous. The Lord sustained me and gave me His grace. 

After a year Mrs. Colonel McGraw, with whom I had lived in 
Lancaster for some four years, came for me to go a few months to 
Wheatland, Md., where they had moved. They found it difficult 
to get a cook, and they thought I might go for a few months to 
get the house settled. After getting the consent of my husband, 
I took my baby, little Nell, six months old, and my daughter 
Mazie, and we went for the summer. O, what I went through 
during those three months! I had to do all the cooking for the 
house, and eight farm hands, beside helping with the washing and 
doing up all the shirts and fine clothes and looking after my chil 
dren. How I did it I don't know. There were but two other 
servants in the house, chambermaid and waiter, so I had no help 
only as they were kind enough, at times, to lend a hand. My baby 
seemed to get along nicely for the first three weeks, then she was 



60 



Autobiography of 



taken sick with summer complaint, and in six weeks I had to lay 
her away in the grave to await the morning of the Resurrection. 
Mrs. McGraw had gone to Lancaster, so was not there. Mr. Mc- 
Graw was just as kind as he could be to make things as pleasant 
as possible. He made all the arrangements for the funeral, and bore 
all the expenses, but, in spite of all, my mother heart was sore 
and sad. My husband was at Bethlehem Springs and could not get 
there. Nevertheless, the Lord stood by me. Praise His name for 
ever and ever. Amen. 

In the fall I returned home to Philadelphia, and went out to 
da} T s' work and took washing, in every way to help my husband. 
In the course of time the Lord gave me another dear little boy, 
and I named him after Thomas Henry, whom I loved for his 
Christian, manly bravery in the dark days of slavery. 

He was a member of the M. E. Church, and was a licensed 
preacher for a number of years at Hagerstown, Md., and left that 
church and joined the A. M. E. Church in 1834. The stewards 
and sometimes the preachers, in those days owned slaves, and as 
one of the stewards of the church he belonged to, sold a poor col- 
ored girl away from her child, he was sad about it, knowing them 
all as he did; so he went to the Presiding Elder and asked him 
about the clause in the discipline about buying and selling slaves. 
He told him that he had nothing to do with the Steward's prop- 
erty; and after still further inquiry the same answer was given. 
Then with Tom Henry forbearance ceased to be a virtue and he said 
no man whose hand is red with innocent blood shall ever put the 
Sacrament in my mouth. He remained a worthy member of the A. 
M. E. Church, which he served nobly till he fell asleep in Jesus, 
about ten years ago. 

I speak of him because he was a father to me, and so often 
comforted my heart when I would be almost overwhelmed. 

The story of his life ought to be read by every Methodist 
preacher of to-day, for many of them have forgotten what the 
fathers had to go through in preparing a church for them to carry 
forward. What wonderful changes have been since then! Surely, 
God hath been good to Israel. 

In 1865 my husband took a position at Leland's Hotel, and we 
moved from Philadelphia to New York. We were strangers, I, 
especially. My husband, James Smith, was a Mason and an Odd 
Fellow, so in that way knew many more persons than L The New 



Amanda Smith. 



61 



York people, both white and colored, seemed so different from the 
Philadelphia people. I could not seem to get into their ways. In 
Philadelphia my church relations were so congenial and spiritual, 
but here I was very lonesome. We found it difficult to get rooms. 
In Philadelphia, you could get a small house to yourself, but rents 
in New York were high, and there were many things in the way. 
I hoped my husband would go back again; but no, I must make 
the best of things till we got started and acquainted. That means 
something when one goes to New York a stranger, as I did, and 
with but little money. I took a situation as cook up town, Twenty- 
fourth street and Lexington avenue, with a Mrs. L. It was a very 
nice place: there I stayed about two months. My husband got a 
room in York street, and then I only went out to day's work, still 
finding the people with whom I met cool and unsocial compared 
with what they were in Philadelphia. I told my husband I did 
not like New Y^ork. Then he advised me to join some societies, 
then I would get better acquainted. All the leading high-toned 
church people were in society; so it was then, and is to-day. Well, I 
was high-toned in spirit, — always had been; I think I took after the 
white folks I lived with; they were aristocratic. So I thought that 
is a good idea and I will get to know all the nice people; so I joined 
three different societies. 

I was greatly disappointed in the spirit that I saw manifested 
among the members, but I said I will have to get used to things, 
then it will be better, so I went on for a year. Then there was a 
new society started called the "Heroines of Jericho." None but 
Master Masons' wives and daughters could join it. and this society 
was very high-toned, and as my husband was a Master Mason, he 
was anxious for me to join. He came home one night and told me 
all about it. Nothing would do but I must join this if I let some 
of the others go. 

Well, after some weeks I did, and we had flashy times, all thp 
tinsel regalia and turn out and money spending and show; it took 
all I could gather to keep up with it, and I had no chance to draw 
anything, for I had good health ai d was never sick: but still I 
must go on paying my dues regularly, as I had begun: and so I 
did till '68, then after God had sanctified my soul He opened my 
eyes to see the folly of all this and taught me how to trust in Him, 
and I came out of every one of them. 

The more I prayed about it the clearer God made it to me that 



62 



Autobiography of 



all these secret societies are the mothers of selfishness, pride and 
worldliness. I shall praise God forever that when I asked Him for 
light on these things He gave it to me, and as I walked in it He 
led me out into a place of broad rivers. Some of the sisters and 
brethren visited me and tried to persuade me. They said, "you 
were just come to where you would be in office, and you have paid 
so much money in, and you should not leave it now. " When I did 
not yield they turned on me and treated me coolly, and said many 
unkind things about me. But thank God, I was out to go in no 
more. I treated everybody very kindly, and did pray for them all, 
for I knew God would give them light if they only would receive it. 

After this I had my trials. My husband could not under- 
stand why I should take such a position, but I could not explain, 
I could only sing, 

"He leadeth me! Oh! blessed thought, 
Oh! words with heav'nly comfort fraught; 
What e'er I do, where'er I be, 
Still 'tis God's hand that leadeth me." 

One morning as 1 was over the wash-tub my heart was sore. 
Oh! what a night I had had. I felt 1 could not bear any more, 
and I said, O. Lord, is there no way out of this? And as I wept 
and prayed the Lord sent Mother Jones. I did not want her to 
catch me crying; I did not believe in telling all my little troubles, 
but there she was, and I was so full and had suppressed so long 
that I could hold in no longer. "Well, Smith," she said, "how 
do you do ? " 

" O, Mother Jones, I am nearly heart-broken; James is so 
unkind," and I began to tell all my good works; how I did this 
and how I did that, and all I could to make things pleasant, and 
yet he was unkind. 

" Well," she said, " that is just the way Jones used to do me, 
but when God sanctified my soul He gave me enduring grace, and 
that is what you need; get sanctified, and then you will have 
enduring grace." 

" My," I thought, " is that what sanctification means? Endur- 
ing grace? That is just what I need; 1 have always been planning 
to get out of trials, instead of asking God for grace to endure: " 
and as she talked on, down deep in my heart I prayed the Lord to 
make her go so I could get sanctified and get enduring grace, 




Mr. Samuel Berry, Father of Amanda Smith. 



Amanda Smith. 



03 



before James came home. O, how I did want her to go! After a 
while she went. 

The minute she shut the door I turned the key and ran into 
the bed-room and got on my knees and prayed. O, Lord, sanctify 
my soul and give me enduring grace. O, Lord, sanctify my soul 
and give me enduring grace. " 

Oh! how I struggled and wept and prayed. I threw myself on 
the floor, on my face, then I got up and walked up and down the 
room, wrung my hands, pulled my hair and cried, " O, Lord, sanc- 
tify my soul and give me enduring grace." 

I thought if I could only get it before James came home at 
night, for I could never go through another night like last night, 
then I would cry, "O. Lord, sanctify my soul and give me en- 
during grace." So I went on for an hour, and when I got through 
I did not have the great blessing: God had prepared a better way. 
I was in such distress that I never thought about faith: I was 
taken up with my desire and distress when seeking the blessing. 
Well, I did not get it then, of course, for faith without works is 
dead, so works, without real faith in God. are dead also. 

"I struggled and wrestled to win it, 
The blessing that setteth me free, 
But when I had ceased all my struggle, 
This peace Jesus gave unto me." 

In this connection T will give a brief account of the closing 
years of my father's life, as doubtless some may desire to know 
how he who had fought the battle of life so bravely met the last 
great enemy — death. 

After my mother's death my father married again, but his 
second marriage was not as congenial as the first, and father had 
got older, and was not patient and forbearing as he ought to have 
been: and mother's people and children and grandchildren all lived 
in Baltimore, so that she would be away often for months at a 
time. Father was old-fashioned, and did not like some of the new 
methods in church, such as fairs and festivals and the like: so 
that in speaking against these things, and not in the mildest spirit , 
I fear, he offended the pastor of the church he belonged to: it was 
the African Zion Church, called Big Wesley, in Philadelphia, on 
Lombard street, below Sixth. He was a class leader, but he had 
incurred the displeasure of the pastor and the people mostly; so 



04 



Autobiography of 



things got to be very unpleasant, and his spirit got sour and he left 
the church. 

The Quakers had a mission on St. Mary's street, for the col- 
ored people, and they did a great deal of good, and father used to 
go there regularly; he seemed to enjoy it; they were plain and 
very kind; they manifested such a kind spirit towards all the col- 
ored people, and looked after the poor so nicely in the winter time. 
There were large and good Bible classes, and they had excellent 
teachers. But notwithstanding all this, my father had lost his 
spiritual life. Oh! how it grieved me to think of it. I wept and 
prayed for him, and would talk to him sometimes when he would 
let me; but the old-time people did not want much talk from the 
children; so I had to be very careful. 

After the Lord had sanctified by soul, my burden for my poor 
father increased! Oh, how sad! I wept, and it seemed that the 
Lord 'must save him anyhow, whether or no. But, oh! how I 
learned that we cannot do anything by trying to drive God. He 
cannot be driven. "But, oh!" I said, "It is my dear father I 
want saved, and the Lord can and must save him." 

He was working at that time on a large and high building, 
and I was so afraid if he were to fall and be crippled, or killed; I 
could not bear to think of it. So I prayed more fervently. One 
day I had an awful test while I was praying for him in New York; 
he was in Philadelphia; and it came tome," Would you be willing 
for your father to be lost?" Oh! my blood seemed to curdle at 
the thought; how I did cry to God. Then it came, "Suppose it 
was God's will, could you submit? " 

"Oh! Lord," I cried, "You made him, and he is yours, and 
you have a right to do with your own what you please; but oh! 
save my father." 

Then it came, "Suppose you were to hear that he had fallen 
off that building and was injured for life? " Just then it seemed 
I saw him fall, and saw the men bring him home, all mangled and 
bleeding. Oh! what horror! I held my breath, for it seemed it 
was really so. 

' ' I cannot bear the thought of seeing him suffer, ' ' I said. ' 'But, 
oh, Lord, if there is no other way, then let Thy will be done." 
And I let go of father and took -hold of God; and though I cannot 
tell how, I rested so sweetly in God. His justice is right. His 
love is right. Two years after this passed away before my father 



Amanda Smith. 



died; but, oh: how sweetly the Lord seemed to bring him to Him- 
self; took all the harshness out of him; sweetened him down so 
beautifully. I shall never forget. 

I had been home to Philadelphia on a visit, and I had father 
come around one night to tea before I left: he seemed so changed 
and different from what he had been; he had been sick for several 
days, but not in bed. I was not there when he died. The morning- 
he died; he got up as usual, was very weak, but dressed himself, 
put on all his Sunday clothes, went out and took a walk, came 
back and read his Bible, and then said to my sister, "I feel so 
weak. I think I will go upstairs and lie down." And they went up 
a little while after, and she saw he was dying: not a struggle or a 
groan. I never had an anxious thought about him from the time 
I sank down into the will of God. What else ought we to do, 
when we bring our friends, but to sink into the will of God, and 
put them into His hands, and trust Him? Amen. Amen. 

I had three brothers in the late war. My youngest brother 
came home sick, and died in the hospital at Harrisburg, in Sep- 
tember, '62. I did not hear of his sickness until it was too late. I 
went at once, but when I got there he was dead and buried two 
days or more. Oh, what a blow it was to me! He was my favor- 
ite brother. He was home on a furlough with his captain, and 
came to see me. He and I had talked of trying to buy a little home 
for father. He was rather wild and I wanted him to save his 
money and send it to me, and I would put mine with it. Poor boy: 
I wondered why he didn't write after he went away. But he was 
taken with smallpox and died, and I never saw him again. I saw 
the men that were with him while he was sick and dying, and his 
grave; that is all, till the morning of the Resurrection. 

My next brother, Samuel Grafton, 'served three years. He 
lived at Towanda, Pa., and about a year ago he was drowned. 

My oldest brother, William Talbert, served two years in the 
war, and died about eight or nine months ago at York, Pa. 'How 
glad I was that I went to see them all before I went to Africa, and 
talked and prayed with them, and helped them all I could. Out 
of a large family of thirteen children, two sisters and myself are 
all that are living. One of my sisters lives in Brooklyn, X. Y., and 
the other in San Francisco, Cal. 

But I return to the story of my experiences in New York. 

The rent in York street was high. We got a room on Broom 



Autobiography of 



street. I went out house cleaning then, but my condition was 
such that I could not get on very well, and after a few months the 
woman that I had the room with said I would have to move, she 
was afraid I would be sick, and she could not attend to me, and 
she was afraid I was not able to get any one. That was true. It 
took about all I could earn to pay rent and keep up our societies, 
so I heard that persons in my state were well cared for at the Col- 
ored Home. I told my husband I would go there until after my 
confinement. He consented, as we could get no suitable rooms, 
and I went; but oh! when I got there and saw how things were I 
could not stay longer than a week. My husband went to see a 
friend, Mrs. Harris, a Philadelphia woman. She lived in Grove 
street. She was taking care of some one's house uptown and was 
not home at her own house. Her husband only was in at night, 
so she told my husband I could come there. 1 went there from 
the Home. 

When my baby was three weeks old I took a situation 
with a person that seemed to be a real lady; she gave me 
three dollars a week, with my baby. I had not been in the house 
long before I saw it was the wrong place. Several girls passing 
back and forth through the kitchen and laughing and behaving 
so rudely, I saw that they were not straight. Oh! how sad. I 
had gone for a week until she could get some one. What shall I 
do, shall I go? I need the money and I said I will stay this week, 
so I told the madame I would stay only for a week. She said she 
was sorry, but if I would only stay she would give me more wages. 
I told her she must get some one, I could not stay, I would go 
when my week was up; so when the day came she stayed out of 
the kitchen all day, and sent orders. Then she went out pretend- 
ing to look for some one;' got back very late, sent word if I would 
stay till the next day she would pa} T me, some one had promised 
to come, so she went on for several days. One night I waited 
until nine o'clock; I sent up for the money; she wanted me to stay 
till morning; I said I will not stay in this house another night, I 
will leave here to-night if it is not till twelve o'clock. She sent 
the money, not as she promised, but with cursing. I was glad to 
take what I got and get out. I went to a friend, Mrs. N., on Sul- 
livan street, and stayed all night; I slept but little. She had a 
house full of washing, but little room, so she made me a bed on an 
ironing board and two chairs. Next morning while my baby slept, 



Amanda Smith. 



07 



I felt led to go around and see my old Philadelphia friend, Mrs. 
Harris, on Grove street, who had now got home again, to see if 
she could tell me of a room anywhere. On my way back the Lord 
seemed to direct me and I came through Amity street. I saw in 
the rear a furnished room to let. I went in. There I met old Mrs. 
Anderson, who was very kind and said when I told her who I was, 
that she had heard her sons, Gus and Peter, speak of me. I had 
met them years before at Long Branch. She seemed so pleased; 
it was she that had the basement to let. She let me have the 
basement at six dollars per month, and I told my husband when 
he came in the evening from the hotel, and he said he would pay 
the rent! Oh! how glad I was. I did thank God; I knew He had 
led me. 

There was a carpet on the floor, a good sized stove, a bed- 
stead, three chairs, a table and a lamp. I ran away and got my 
poor baby and was soon back. It was rather damp and I had 
never lived in a basement before in my life, but I soon had a good 
fire, and then when my husband came he was glad and sent the 
things, what few we had, and in a week or two I began to feel 
quite at home. Persons began to bring in washing to me, a half 
dozen, then a dozen, etc., and so I went on. After the first two 
months Sister A. wanted the carpet off the floor; a day or two later 
she wanted the table. All right, I said, it was rather inconvenient, 
but still I gave it. Another month's rent paid. Two or three 
days after she wanted the mattress off the bed, and I said, " Sister 
A., you let the basement furnished for six dollars a month." 

"Well," she said, "I can get more than that for it, and I 
want the mattress." 

"All right," I said, and gave it to her. Then I began to 
guess what New York sharpers meant. Next thing was a chair, 
then the next was the stove. She said she had a good chance to 
sell it. I begged her then to let me have the stove a little longer, 
and in time the Lord helped me and I got a stove. In the mean- 
time some one moved out from the upstairs. I told James, and 
we moved upstairs. Four rooms at eight dollars a month. I kept 
two and rented out the two attic rooms, so that helped to pay my 
rent. Then I began to get in some families' washing and was 
getting on very nicely, so much better to be upstairs and out of 
the damp basement, and I was happy. Then a shadow. Little 
Tom Henry, my baby, was taken sick, and after several weeks of 



Autobiography of 



great suffering 1 he died, and we laid him away in Greenwood Cem- 
etery, there to await the glorious Resurrection morn. My poor 
heart was sad for days, but Oh! how the Lord comforted me and 
upheld me with all. 

I still went on with my washing. Many nights I have stood 
at my wash-tub all night, from six in the morning till six the 
next morning, and so at my ironing table, night and day. I 
would get so sleepy I could hardly stand on my feet, then I would 
lean my head on the window ledge and sleep a little till the first 
deep sleep would pass off, then I would work on till daylight with 
perfect ease. I had to use all the economy I could, and I knew 
just how much ironing I could do with a ten cent pail of coal. 
If I lay down I would oversleep myself, and my fire would burn out, 
and my coal would be gone. I worked hard day and night, did all 
I could to help my husband, but he was one of those poor unfor- 
tunate dispositions that are hard to satisfy, and many a day and 
night my poor heart ached as I wept and prayed God to help me. 

In the next rooms to me, on the same floor, a Mrs. J. lived; 
she was an old Philadelphian. She had known my husband, and 
I thought as she was an old Philadelphian, and she seemed so 
nice, I would have a true friend who would symjmthize with me 
and help me. How often when we are passing through deep 
trials we look for human sympathy, and lean on the human more 
than on God. In this I have always failed; but still I had to 
learn by experience. She was a widow. She and her daughter 
lived together. I was as kind as I could be, and did all I could 
for her poor daughter when she was ill. Mrs. J. and I had the 
same landlady, Mrs. Bo wen. She lived in the front house just 
above Sixth avenue on Amity street. She was far from being a 
Christian woman, but was kind and lenient about her rent. 

We paid her, not always the first day of the month. She 
would take a dollar at a time just as she could get it and say 
nothing. Christmas time came. Mrs. B. sent over to ask Mrs. 
Johnson to come in and cook her Christmas dinner, and she would 
let it go on the rent, as she was behind, and so it would help her. 
Mrs. J. said she would do it, but in the evening another party 
came for Mrs. J. and paid her the cash, notwithstanding she had 
promised Mrs. B. she would go. She sent her daughter to Mrs, 
B. and she went where she would get the cash. This displeased 
Mrs. B. very much, when she considered how lenient she had 



Amanda Smith. 



09 



been with her for so long. The girl was young and could not do 
the work as well as her mother, and Mrs. B. said, " I will not put 
up with Mrs. J. any longer; she shall move." 

I tried to talk to her as best I could, and told her to see Mrs. 
J. and not put her out: it might be she would pay up all her back 
rent. Xo, she would go to JetTerson Market and have a notice 
sent her to move. 

"Wait," I said, "till she comes home to-night and hear what 
she says." So when Mrs. J. came I told her she had better go in 
and see Mrs. B. and not have her send the notice; but to my sur- 
prise Mrs. J. was quite spunky, and said if she wanted to send 
her a notice she could do so. 

" Well, Johnson," I said, "you know Mrs. B. has been very kind, 
and I think you ought to go in anyhow and tell her why you did 
not come;" but she did not; so Mrs. B. had her summoned before 
the court of Jefferson Market. Saturday morning came. I had a 
large basket of gentlemen's shirts to iron. Mrs. J. came in and 
asked me if I would go to court with her. I said, "J.. I have to get 
these shirts home by one o'clock; the gentleman is going away, and 
I have promised, and if I go with you I can't do it." A friend 
of Mrs. J.'s was there, and I said, "Charlotte, can't you go? " 

k * Yes, ' ' she said, ' • I am going. ' ' 

"O," I said, "then you don't need me; there is no use of so 
many going." She said, "yes." 

I went to my work, and thought when they came back they 
would tell me how they came out; but no, neither of them came 
near. When I met Mrs. J. in the evening I said, "Good evening, 
Mrs. J., is that you?" She did not speak. I was dumbfounded. 
I said, "That is Mrs. J., I know: but what is the matter?" A 
week passed. She went and came, and one evening as I was com- 
ing in I walked up to her and took hold of her and said. 41 But say. 
Johnson, what is the matter?" She pulled away from me, but 
never spoke a word. 

O, how vexed I was at myself. I said the idea of my forcing- 
people to speak to me when they don't want to, and I have done 
nothing to them. " I will never speak to her again while I live," I 
said. For two years after, God only knows what I had to un- 
dergo through that woman. 

She had succeeded in paying up the back rent, and Mrs. 
Bowen was kind enough to let her stay. She lived next door to 



70 



Autobiography of 



me on the same floor. Her daughter would speak, but she, 
never. Sometimes she would act as though she wanted to, but I 
was afraid to trust her, as she had acted so rudely before. She 
used to tantalize me by sending messages to me by people. 
When it would be my Saturday to scrub the long veranda and 
down the steps, she would wait on Saturday night till it was all 
done, and then would throw greasy bread crumbs all over the 
stoop and steps, and you know how grease will spread on soft pine. 
I would often cry, but said not a word. 

A Sister Brown, to whom I had let my two rooms upstairs, 
and Mrs. J. got to be very special friends. In the spring I went 
out house-cleaning, and often when I would come home from 
work Mrs. B. would come in to talk and have a great story to tell 
me about what Mrs. Johnson said. I said nothing. I knew if I 
opened my mouth that both of those dear sisters would wish they 
were miles away. I prayed God not to let me speak; so one day I 
got home about four o'clock; a little while after Sister B. came in, 
so kind, apparently. After talking, she began about what Mrs. 
Johnson said. I said, "Look here, Sister B., I have no objections 
if Sister Johnson and you talk about me all you like. I work hard, 
and though I live beside Mrs. Johnson, I don't live off of her. I 
I don't owe her a cent " — (and she did owe me, for she had bor- 
rowed money from me and never has paid it yet). I said, 14 You 
must never tell me anything she says again while you live. I am 
next door to Mrs. Johnson, and if she wants me to know these 
things she must tell me herself." 

These sisters were both in my own church. So poor Sister B. 
took offense at what I said and moved into Mrs. Johnson's. Mrs. 
Johnson moved into her two attic rooms and let Mrs. Brown have 
the lower rooms. I said nothing, but went on as if nothing had 
happened. My! what fine cronies they were; but it was not of 
long duration. After a few months Mrs. B. and Mrs. J. had a 
terrible falling out, and I had to take Mrs. B. to keep her from 
being set out in the street; and so had a chance to return good for 
evil This greatly changed Mrs. B.'s spirit. We got on nicely 
till they were able to suit themselves better. Amid all this my 
soul cried out after God. I would talk to my husband, but he had 
no sympathy with holiness. He had had advantages far above 
me, and was far more intelligent. He would always want to argue 
on this subject, and I could not keep up on that line and it would 



Amanda Smith. 



71 



throw me back, so I told the Lord otie day if He would send James 
away somewhere till I got the blessing he would never get it away 
again, but that he hindered me from getting it. I knew he would 
often go away with his people for a month or two at a time. 
That was in my mind when I prayed: so, sure enough, in about a 
week after this prayer I looked out one morning and there came 
James back. When he came in I said, "My! James, what is up. 
are the folks going away? " 

"Xo; they have got a young Irishman, just from the old 
country, a nephew of the cook who has lived in the family for a 
number of years, and they have taken him at fifteen dollars a 
month. He has been around me for two weeks, pretending he 
came to visit his aunt, but I see now he was only taking lessons 
how to manage the horses." 

James got forty dollars, and a reduction to fifteen was a good 
deal in the employer's pocket. My heart throbbed. "O," I said, 
"if he should find out I prayed he would blame me," and I was 
afraid to talk much. He was like a fish out of water when he 
had no work. It was two weeks before he got a situation. Being 
a first-class coachman, he would not take less than fortv dollars. 
Finally he got a situation at fifty dollars a month at New Utrecht, 
with a Mr. Roberts. He had only to drive twice a day. They 
had fine English horses, and they wanted them well cared for. 
They gave a comfortable house, rent free, two tons of coal for the 
winter, and a barrel of flour. This was the first of September. 
He went and wanted me to go. but having a right young baby I 
said, " Xo, James: I have got some nice families' washing in, and 
you go and try till spring, and I will save up and in the spring we 
will take a fresh start and we can have our garden and every- 
thing." But no, I must go right away. I reasoned every way I 
could, but he was determined I should go. At last I said, "James, 
I am afraid to go; you have done me so bad right here where I 
have just begun to get used to the people, and know how to turn 
around, and what will it be if I go there out in the country, no 
church near, and a stranger, and if I give up my washing what 
will I do'! I can help myself a little now." But this did not 
please him, and I told him I would wait till spring. The landlady 
died, and a new landlord raised the rent. — thirteen dollars. He 
paid the rent, but would do no more. His daughter was married 
and lived in Philadelphia, so he sent for them to come on and live 



72 



Autobiography op 



in the house, and he lived with them and would come home every 
other Sunday and stay till Monday. He came home regularly 
every fortnight. I said, "Now, Lord, while James is away do 
please give me the blessing I seek. I will be true, I will never let 
anything he may say or do get the blessing away from me." 

One da}' while cleaning up my room I distinctly heard a voict 
say to me, "On Sunday morning go to Green Street Church and 
hear John Inskip." 

"Yes," I said, "I will." 

Then came such a quiet hush all over me, and I smiled. This 
was on Wednesday morning. So I went on thinking it over. Now, 
I was not definitely seeking the blessing as I had been. I thought 
when an opportunity offered and I could be baptized and come up 
to the Bible standard, then the Lord would have to sanctify me. 
How blind I was! 



CHAPTER VII. 



THE BLESSING — ABOUT SEEKING SANCTIFICATION BY WORKS. 

I always got up as early on Sunday mornings as on other 
mornings. I got my breakfast and cleaned up my house, and at 
nine o'clock my little Mazie went to Sunday School. While she 
was gone I would cook all my dinner and get everything ready. I 
did not have time to cook much through the week, as I had often 
to dry my clothes in the house and I could not have the smell of 
cooking, so Sunday was the only day I would have a real good 
dinner, but I never stayed home from church to cook — so I gave 
my baby his bath and laid him in his cradle, then I got down on 
my knees and prayed the Lord to keep Will asleep till I went to 
Green Street Church, and to keep James in a good humor so he 
would not scold me, for I hated to be scolded, in the worst way. 
James was peculiar. If he came and I happened to be out, even 
though I went to carry clothes, he would be vexed. So after 
Mazie came I said, ,k Xow you read your library book and be a 
good girl, I am going to Green Street Church this morning; it lets 
out before our church does, so I will be home in time. You can 
tell your pa, if he comes before I get back. If Will cries, don't 
take him up: just rock him." 

She was a good strong girl, thirteen years old, quite able to 
take care of him and could manage him quite as well as I could, 
so I went and left them. On my way to Green street, it seemed 
the Devil overtook me. Just as I turned in Carmine street. I felt 
a Satanic influence walking by my side and whispering, "Now, 
you know, if James comes home and finds you are out, you know 
what you will catch; you had better go to Bedford Street and hear 
John Cookman. " 

44 Well, I will." 

So when I got to the corner and was just going to turn down 

(73) 



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Autobiography of 



Bleecker street, a voice said, "No, goon." I went on. After I 
had gone about half a block Satan whispered again, "You are 
seeking sanctification? " 
"Yes." 

" Well, if James comes home and you are out, he will be very 
angry, and that will be a sin and you should not make anybody 
sin." 

' 4 No, " I said, "I will not do it. " 

Then Satan said, "You had better go and hear that Presby- 
terian minister on the corner of Houston and Prince streets." I 
had heard how kind they were to colored people and I had prom- 
ised several times I would go and hear this minister; the Devil 
had found that out some way; I can't tell how he knew it, but he 
did. " You had better go and hear him; then, it is nearer home, 
three blocks nearer, and you can get home quick." 

"Yes," I said, "that is so. " 

When I got to the corner, as I was about to turn down, with a 
gentle pull a sweet voice whispered, "No, no, go on." 
" Lord, help me!" 

Oh, how will I ever praise God enough for His tender love and 
faithfulness to me in that awful hour. He gave power to my 
fainting spirit, and when I had no might, He increased strength. 
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Praise the Lord! 

I went on a little further and by and by the enemy seemed to 
approach me again fiercely. He said, "Now, you are the biggest 
fool that ever was. You think you are going to hear John Inskip; 
he is not there, he is at the Five Points." 

" O, if I thought Brother Inskip was not there, I would not go. 
I would go back." 

I went on. When I reached the steps I shall never forget the 
thrill of joy that ran through my heart when I heard Brother 
Inskip pray. With what strength I had left I said, " Thank God, 
he is here and not at the Five Points." I seemed to feel the 
Satanic presence sweep by me and say, " O, she has found it out." 
Old Satan knew I had caught him in one of his biggest lies. I 
went into the church and sat down about three seatsifrom the door. 
I had been to that church but once before and that was Brother 
Inskip's first Sunday. While I lived in York street I was very 
sick and could not walk away up to Sullivan Street Bethel Church, 
where I belonged, so I went in there that Sunday. I sat in the 



Amanda Smith. 



75 



gallery. The people were so kind; one brother handed me a book 
and asked me to come again. I thank God for that spirit that 
was in Green street those days, even to colored people. The Sun- 
day I got the blessing I did not sit upstairs, but O, how tired I 
was when I got into the church. I leaned my head forward and 
prayed God to give me strength. When Brother Inskip had 
finished his prayer he rose and made his announcements; the last 
hymn was sung, then came the text: — Ephesians, 4th Chapter 
24th Verse, — 44 And that ye put on the new man, which after God 
is created in righteousness and true holiness." He said, "In 
preaching from this text this morning the brethren will observe 1 
shall have to make some reference to a sermon that T preached a 
few Sabbaths ago on sanctification." 

I was struck, for I had never heard a minister say that word 
in commencing his sermon before, and I said, " O, I have missed 
my chance: two Sabbaths ago I had such a drawing to come here 
and I did not do it: O. Lord, I have disobeyed that spirit and I 
am so sorry: do forgive me and help me, I pray Thee." 

O, how I wept, for I had lost my chance and I am so hungry 
for the blessing; but, "Lord forgive me and help me to listen 
now. ' ' 

I raised my head and fixed my eyes and thoughts on the 
speaker and got so interested it seemed he was preaching right to 
me, and I took every word. By and by I heard my baby scream 
out, — I heard him scream as distinctly as ever I heard a child 
scream. "You told Mazie not to take that child up, but she has 
done it and let him fall," Satan suggested. 

For a moment the actual thing did occur, and it was before 
my eyes. My heart stood still and a voice said, "Trust the 
Lord." 

"I will," I said, and fixed my mind again and listened, and 
as dear Brother Inskip warmed up and I was feasting, my baby 
screamed out again. I jumped, and it seemed that all the people 
in the church heard; it was so plain. 

" There," the Devil says, "James has come home and Mazie 
has not done as you told her, and you will catch it when you 
get home." 

O, I felt if I had wings I would fly. I wanted to scream out. 
A sweet voice said. "You said you would trust the Lord." 

"So I did," I said, so I sat back and was listening and drink- 



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Autobiography of 



ing in and thought all was well now. Again 1 heard my baby 
scream. 

44 There," said the Devil, 44 Mazie has let him fall and broken 
his back," and I got up and walked to the end of the pew. 

"It is no use," I said, "I shall be tormented here; I will go 
home." And it was as though a person stood before me and said, 
44 Didn't you say that you would trust the Lord with that child?" 

44 Yes," I said, 44 and I will trust the Lord, even if he is dead;" 
and I sat down. Just as I sat down Brother Inskip said: 44 There 
are a great many persons who are troubled about the blessing of 
sanctification; how they can keep it if they get it." 

44 Oh!" I said, 44 he means me, for thu;t is just what I have 
said. With my trials and peculiar temperament and all that I 
have to contend with, if I could get the blessing how could T keep 
it? Now, some one has told him, for he is looking right at me 
and I know he means me." And I tried to hide behind the post, 
and he seemed to look around there. Then I said, "Well, he 
means me, and I will just take what he says." He used this illus- 
tration: 44 When you work hard all day and are very tired, — 
44 Yes," I said, and in a moment my mind went through my wash- 
ing and ironing all night, — 44 When you go to bed at night you 
don't fix any way for yourself to breathe," — 44 No," I said, 44 1 nev^r 
think about it," — 44 You go to bed, you breathe all night, 3 t ou 
have nothing to do with your breathing, you awake in the morn- 
ing, you had nothing to do with it." 
44 Yes, yes, I see it." 

He continued: 44 You don't need to fix any way for God to 
live in you; get God in you in all His fullness and He will live 
Himself. 

44 Oh!" I said, 44 1 see it." And somehow I seemed to sink 
down out of sight of myself, and then rise; it was all in a moment. 
I seemed to go two ways at once, down and up. Just then such a 
wave came over me, and such a welling up in my heart, and these 
words rang through me like a bell: 44 God in you, God in you," 
and I thought doing what? Ruling every ambition and desire, 
and bringing every thought unto captivity and obedience to His 
will. How I have lived through it I cannot tell, but the blessed- 
ness of the love and the peace and power I can never describe. O, 
what glory filled my soul! The great vacuum in my soul began 
to fill up; it was like a pleasant draught of cool water, and I felt 



Amanda Smith. 



it. I wanted to shout Glory to Jesus.' but Satan said, "Now, if 
you make a noise they will put you out. " 

I was the only colored person there and I had a very keen 
sense of propriety; I had been taught so, and Satan knew it. I 
wonder how he ever did know all these little points in me, but in 
spite of all my Jesus came out best. As we colored folks used to 
sing in the gone by years: 

"Jesus is a mighty captain, 
Jesus is a mighty captain, 
Jesus is a mighty captain, 
Soldier of the cross." 

" Jesus never lost a battle, 
Jesus never lost a battle, 
Jesus never lost a battle 
Soldier of the cross." 

Halleluiah! Hallelujah! Amen. 

I did not shout, and by-and-by Brother Inskip came to another 
illustration. He said, speaking on faith: "Now, this blessing of 
purity like pardon is received by faith, and if by faith why not now?" 

" Yes," I said. 

"It is instantaneous," he continued. " To illustrate, how 
long is a dark room dark when you take a lighted lamp into it?" 

"O." I said ''I see it!" And again a great wave of glory 
swept over my soul — another cooling draught of water — I seemed 
to swallow it. and then the welling up at my heart seemed to come 
still a little fuller. Praise the Lord forever, for that day! 

Speaking of God's power, he went on still with another illus- 
tration. He said: "If God in the twinkling of an eye can change 
these vile bodies of ours and make them look like his own most 
glorious body, how long will it take God to sanctify a soul?" 

"God can do it." 1 said. "'in the twinkling of an eye." and as 
quick as the spark from smitten steel I felt the touch of God from 
the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, and the welling up 
came, and I felt I must shout: but Satan still resisted me like he 
did Joshua. But the Captain of the Lord's host stood close by and 
said. " Take off the filthy garments from him," and Satan was mad. 

Again I yielded to the tempter and did not shout. Then I 
felt the Spirit leave me. I knew He had gone, and I said: " O, Holy 
Ghost, if Thou wilt only return I will confess Thee." I am so 



78 



Autobiography op 



glad God put the word confession in my mouth. I thought I 
would get ready, so when the Spirit came again I would shout; 
but before I knew it just as though some one threw a basin of 
water in my face, a great wave came and just as I went to say, 
44 Glory to Jesus! " the Devil said, " Look, look at the white people, 
mind, they will put you out," and I put my hands up to my mouth 
and held still, and again I felt the Spirit leave me and pass away. 

Then Satan said: "Now, you have lied to the Holy Ghost, for 
you said if the Holy Ghost returned you would confess Him, and 
He did return and you didn't confess, and you have lied to the 
Holy Ghost." 

O, shall I ever forget the horror of that hour 9 I thought T 
had committed an unpardonable sin, so was doomed forever. All 
hope was gone, and a horror of darkness swept upon my spirit. 
For about five minutes it seemed to me I was in hell, but some- 
how, I don't know how, I said, "Well, I know the Lord has sancti- 
fied my soul" — I felt so sure of it — "and I will go home to my 
church and give the witness." 

Just then Satan says: "They will not believe you because you 
did not get the blessing there." 

Then I knew there was a little jealousy and prejudice among 
some, so T said: "Well, no matter, T know the Lord has sanctified 
my soul, anyhow." And I went to get up to go out, but could not 
stand on my feet. O, I was so weak. My head seemed a river of 
waters and my eyes a fountain of tears. T put my hand in my 
pocket to get my handkerchief, but I could not get it out. Just 
then they arose to sing the closing hymn, that blessed hymn, 
"My latest sun is sinking fast." I tried to get up, but could not; 
then the Devil says, "No one knows you here, and they will think 
you are drunk." 

"Lord, what shall I do," and a voice seemed to whisper in my 
left ear, for Satan stood at my right, and would whisper his sug- 
gestions: "Pray for strength to stand up." I took hold of the pew 
in front of me and trembling from head to foot T stood up, but held 
on to the pew. Just as I got fairly on my feet they struck the last 
verse of the hymn, 

" Oh! bear my longing heart to Him, 
Who bled and died for me. 
Whose blood now cleanseth from all sin, 
And gives me victory," 



Amanda Smith. 



79 



And when they sang these words, "Whose blood now cleans- 
eth," O what a wave of glory swept over my soul! I shouted glory 
to Jesus. Brother Inskip answered, "Amen, Glory to God." O, 
what a triumph for our King Emmanuel. I don't know just how 
I looked, but I felt so wonderfully strange, yet I felt glorious. One 
of the good official brethren at the door said, as i was passing out, 
"Well, auntie, how did you like that sermon?" but I could not 
speak; if I had, I should have shouted, but I simply nodded my 
head. Just as I put my foot on the top step I seemed to feel a 
hand, the touch of which I cannot describe. It seemed to press me 
gently on the top of my head, and I felt something part and roll 
down and cover me like a great cloak! I felt it distinctly; it was 
done in a moment, and O what a mighty peace and power took 
possession of me! I started up Green street. The streets were full 
of people coming from the different churches in all directions. 
Just ahead of me were three of the leading sisters in our church. 
I would sooner have met anybody else than them. I was afraid 
of them. Well, T don't know why, but they were rather the ones 
who made you feel that wisdom dwelt with them. They were old 
leading sisters, and I have found that the colored churches were 
not the only ones that have these leading consequential sisters in 
them. Well, as T drew near, I saw them say something to each 
other, and they looked very dignified. Now. the Devil was not so 
close to me as before; he seemed to be quite behind me, but he 
shouted after me, "You will not tell them you are sanctified." 

"No," I said, "I will say nothing to them," but when I got 
up to them I seemed to have special power in my right arm and I 
was swinging it around, like the boys do sometimes' I don't know 
why, but O I felt mighty, as I came near those sisters. They said, 
"Well, Smith, where have you been this morning?" 

" The Lord," I said, " has sanctified my soul." And they were 
speechless! I said no more, but passed on, swinging my arm! I 
suppose the people thought I was wild, and I was, for God had set 
me on fire! "O," I thought, "if there was a platform around the 
world I would be willing to get on it and walk and tell everybody 
of this sanctifying power of God!" 

"Of victory now o'er Satan's power, 
Let all the ransomed sing, 
And triumph in the dying hour 

Through Christ the Lord our King." 



80 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OP 



" Oh! it was love, 
'Twas wondrous love, 

The love of God to me, 
That brought my Saviour from above, 

To die on Calvary." 

Somehow T always had a fear of white people — that is, I was 
not afraid of them in the sense of doing me harm, or anything of 
that kind — but a kind of fear because they were white, and were 
there, and I was black and was here! But that morning on 
Green street, as I stood on my feet trembling, I heard these words 
distinctly. They seemed to come from the northeast corner of 
the church, slowly, but clearly: ''There is neither Jew nor Greek, 
there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female, 
for ye are all one in Christ Jesus." (Galatians 3:28.) I never 
understood that text before. But now the Holy Ghost had made 
it clear to me. And as I looked at white people that I had always 
seemed to be afraid of, now they looked so small. The great 
mountain had become a mole-hill. ''Therefore, if the Son shall 
make you free, then are you free, indeed." All praise to my vic- 
torious Christ! 

" He delivered me when bound, 

And when wounded, healed my wound. 

Sought me wandering, set me right, 

Turned my darkness into light." 

Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Praise the Lord! 
When I got home T opened the door; the baby was still asleep. 
I said: "Mazie, has Mr. Smith come?" 
"No." 

"Has Will slept all right ?" 

"Yes, he has not wakened up at all." 

"Well, the Lord has sanctified my soul this morning," and 
she said, "Has he, mother?" 

"Yes." I said, "and I want to go around and tell Auntie 
Scott. " She was my good band sister. She lived in Clinton court, 
off Eighth street. When 1 got to the door, I knocked and opened 
at the same time. Brother Scott was lying on the sofa; he was 
assistant class leader to Brother Henry De Schield's, who was my 
leader. He believed in the doctrine of holiness, but had not the 
experience at that time, but, thank God, he believed in it and said 



Amanda Smith. 



81 



nothing against it, so that was in my favor. Brother Scott was 
"on the fence," sometimes he would seem to believe in it and talk 
as though he had it, at another time he would oppose it bitterly, 
so you never knew just when he would turn on you. When I went 
in that morning, I said: "Pop Scott, the Lord has sanctified my 
soul this morning." 

He raised himself up, and said: "Did — did He?" (He stam- 
mered a little.) I did not wait for any more, I began to sing an 
old hymn that I had often heard sung m our love feasts and class 
meetings in the gone-by days, which seemed to be the real song of 
my soul. I had never felt such soul union with Jesus before in my 
life; so I sang: 

" I am married to Jesus 
For more than one year, 
I am married to Jesus 
For during the war." 
The old man looked at me and smiled and got ready for an 
argument. The children all looked astonished. Sister Scott had 
not come in from church. When I had finished the verse, I said, 
"Good morning," and as I opened the door to go out, Sister Scott 
was just coming in. I said; "Oh, Scott! the Lord has sanctified 
my soul this morning." 

I thought she would be so glad for she told me that years 
before in Canada, she had got the blessing through Mrs. Dr. Pal- 
mer. She never spoke of it definitely and clearly, so I never un- 
derstood anything about it, but to my great surprise she very 
coolly said, "Well I hope you will keep it," and passed right in by 
me, and said not another word. I went out. Oh, what a shock! 

" There," the Devil says, "She don't believe you have got the 
blessing." 

" O Lord," I said, " Can it be that I am mistaken and will I 
have to. go back and go all over the ground. I would rather die 
right here in my tracks." 

As I was turning out of Eighth street in Sixth avenue, I cried 
out, " O Lord, help me, and if this blessing is not sanctification, 
then what is it? " And the Lord did help me. Quick these words 
came with power to my heart: "It is the power of God unto sal- 
vation to every one that believeth." " Believeth," seemed to be 
so powerfully emphasized, and I said, "Lord, I do believe that 
Thou hast sanctified my soul," and the power of God came upon 



82 



Autobiography of 



me so that my knees gave way under me and I dropped as 
though I were shot, right on Sixth avenue. The people were pass- 
ing and looked at me and said nothing. I suppose they thought I 
was a little gone in the head, but God had turned my captivity 
and my mouth was filled with laughter. I scrambled up as best I 
could, for I did not fall prostrate, my knees gave way and I dropped 
on my hands, and every time I said the word which the Lord 
put in my mouth: 44 It is the power of God unto salvation to every 
one that believeth," another wave of power came upon me. Down 
I went again, and so three times, before I got home, I fell under 
the mighty power of God. Hallelujah! It is to-day the same, 
" The power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth," 
and I do believe God, and He has kept me saved magnificently. 
Hallelujah! There is a big triumph in my soul. I don't know 
where the Devil went, but I heard no more of him for a week, 
then he called on me and said, 44 When people get sanctified, 
everything gets better around them." 
44 Yes," said I." 

44 Well, you see James is not any better, if anything he is 
worse." 

That was true, if possible, and I said I did think so too, and 
didn't understand it, for I thought he would be glad to know that 
I had got more religion. 

44 Then," said he, 44 You have no witness that you are sancti- 
fied." 

44 Well," I said, 44 1 will have it, God helping me, right now." 

It was Friday. I was ironing; I set down my iron and went 
and told Jesus. I said; 44 Lord, I believe Thou hast sanctified my 
soul, but Satan says I have no witness. Now, Lord, I don't know 
what to ask as a direct witness to this blessing, but give me some- 
thing that shall be so clear and distinct that the Devil will never 
attack me again on that point while I live." 

After a short prayer I waited a moment in silence, and said, 
" 4 Now, Lord, I wait till Thou shalt speak to me Thyself," and 
a moment passed and these words came: 44 Ask for the conversion 
of Miss Chapel." 

I said, 44 Lord, for a real evidence that Thou hast sanctified 
my soul, I ask that Thou will convert Miss Chapel between now 
and Sunday morning." 

In a moment these words were flashed through my soul: 44 If 



Amanda Smith. 



thou canst believe all things that are possible to him that 
believeth." And I said, "Lord, 1 believe Thou will do it," and a 
flood of light and joy filled me. Oh, 1 praise the Lord. I arose 
from my knees praising God. I went to ironing; after a little 
while,Satan came again. 

"You ought to go and see if the woman is converted before 
you are so sure." 

" Well, yes, I would like to go, but then it is two miles away, 
and I am afraid Will might wake up and cry." 

But the enemy urged me, " You had better not be too sure, 
you ought to go and see," and I was sorely tempted. 1 lifted my 
heart to God in prayer and said, "Lord help me, I believe that 
Thou wilt do it, and I will trust Thee." Then there came a still 
hush and quiet all over me and 1 went on ironing and singing. 
Praise the Lord! 

Miss Chapel, referred to, was a very nice young woman, 
though not a Christian. She was a very upright, moral person. She 
was taken ill, and her sister, a very earnest Christian, was very 
anxious about her state, and asked me and others to come and 
pray with her. One day I went, and met Mother Jones and several 
others. We sang and prayed with her and left her. And now a 
week had passed and I had not heard from her, and T had thought 
that was why the enemy attacked me so fiercely on Friday. Sun- 
day morning came and I had persisted in believing and praising 
God, according to His word: " If thou canst believe all things are 
possible to him that believeth." I went to church, and as I sat in 
my pew after the sermon was over, and the collection was being 
taken up, Sister Jones, who sat in the opposite pew, got up and 
came over to me, and said "Smith, Chapel has got the blessing." 
I said, "Praise the Lord, when did she get it' 7 " She said, "Yes- 
terday afternoon." Then these words were spoken to my heart in 
power: "Now that is your evidence," and I said, "O Lord, I do 
thank Thee, Thou hast answered my prayer and given me this dis- 
tinct witness that Thou hast sanctified my soul." 

Many times since then my faith has been tried sorely, and I 
have had much to contend with, and the fiery darts of Satan 
at times have been sore, but he has never, from that day, had the 
impudence to tell me that God had not done this blessed work. 
Hallelujah: what a Saviour! 

Everybody does not have direct witness to their sanctification 



84 



Autobiography of 



nor to their justification in that way, but it is their privilege to 
have the clear, distinct witness of the Spirit to both justification 
and sanctification, and, as a rule, persons who do not get this dis- 
tinct witness are unsettled in their Christian life, often waver and 
falter, and are more easily turned aside to new isms and doctrines; 
but, thank God, He has kept me in perfect peace while my mind 
has been stayed on Him and I have trusted in Him. Praise His 
name forever ! 

James did not come home for two weeks. When he came I 
sat down on his lap and put my arms around his neck and told 
him all about it. He listened patiently. When I got through he 
began his old argument. I said, "Now, my dear, you know I can't 

argue." 

"O well," he said, "If you have got something you can't talk 
about, I don't believe in it." 

"Well," I said, "I have told you all I can and T cannot 
argue." O, how he tantalized me in every way, but God kept me 
so still in my soul, and my poor husband was so annoyed because 
I would not argue. I knew what it meant, but praise God He 
saved me. I could only weep and pray. 

Shortly after I was converted, I was deeply convicted for the 
blessing of heart purity; and if I had had any one to instruct me, 
I can see how I might have entered into the blessed experience. 
But not having proper teaching, like Israel of old, I wandered in 
the wilderness of doubts and fears, and ups and downs, for twelve 
years; and but for the Rev. John S. Inskip's having the experience 
himself, and preaching that memorable Sunday morning, Septem- 
ber, 1868, in the old Green Street Church, New York, in all proba- 
bility I might never have got into the blessed light of full sal- 
vation. 

I shall ever thank God that the evidence of my acceptance 
with Him was so definite and clear when I was so deeply convicted 
for the blessing of heart purity. It was a hard struggle, anyhow; 
but if this point had not been settled so clearly it would have been 
much worse — the difference between the two convictions, pardon 
and purity. When I was convicted for sin I was under condemna- 
tion, and felt that I was a lost and wretched sinner. Now, when 
God in mercy had pardoned all my sins, he took away all condem- 
nation and gave me joy and peace in believing. Hallelujah! 

Now, when I was convicted for purity or sanctification, it was 



Amanda Smith. 



85 



a deep conviction of want — an indescribable want; not condem- 
nation. But, oh! that deep heart want. Like, after you have 
eaten a good hearty breakfast, and have worked hard all day, and 
get very hungry for your dinner or supper. Well, my heart cried 
out and longed as one that " Longeth for the morning." And yet 
I had no means, no words to express just what I wanted. One day 
a friend came in to see me. I was then living at Col. S. McGraw's, 
in Lancaster. She was quite a high-toned colored lady, for every- 
one knew the Porter family, and they were always considered one 
of the leading families among the colored people. The father was 
a large farmer in Kent county, and the sons were all fine young 
men, and pretty well educated, as was also the daughter. She had 
been a school teacher for many years, but was now married to 
Rev. Lewis Hood, who was pastor of the Union Church in Lancas- 
ter. So I thought I could open my heart to her, and she would be 
able to help me. So I said to her, "Sister Hood, I don't know 
what's the matter with me. Somehow I feel like I wanted some- 
thing, but I can't tell just what. I pray, but I do not get help just 
as I want." 

" Well," she said, "What's the matter with you? Aren't you 
converted? " 

"Oh! yes," I said, " It isn't that." 

" Well, haven't you got the witness of the Spirit? " 

"Oh! yes; it isn't that." 

" Well," she said, " If you keep on you will be crazy." 

Then I was frightened, and said, "Oh! she does not under- 
stand me; and now if she tells anybody what I said they will not 
understand it, and will think I have backslidden; and here I am 
leading class, and the leader of the female prayer meeting." 

So as soon as she was gone I ran down into the cellar and got 
down on my knees, and asked the Lord to take out of the mind 
of Sister Hood all that I had said, so she would not repeat it. I 
was in sore distress. 

Several days after this I was reading my Bible, and I turned 
to the forty-second Psalm, first verse, "As the heart panteth after 
the water brook, so panteth my soul after the living God." My 
heart leaped. "Oh! "I said, " That's what I wanted — God! Now 
if anyone asked me what I wanted, as Sister Hood did, I could tell 
them it was God I wanted." The more I read my Bible, and 
fasted and prayed, the deeper my hunger became. One da} T I went 



86 



Autobiography of 



to George James — I generally called him 44 Father James " — he 
was a tall, elderly man, very dignified in manner, but was kind. 
He was very black, his hair was white, and he was a fading local 
preacher, and deacon of the A. M. E. Church, in Lancaster, at 
that time, where I belonged. So I went to him, and I said: 
"Father James, I have been reading the Bible to-day, and I see 
this: 'Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.' 
What does that mean?" 

" You know," he said, " That is in the Bible for you to come 
as near to it as you can. But God knows you never can be 'pure 
in heart.' " 

Then he went on and explained to me in his way. Of course 
I did not get much light. And the Devil said to me as I went 
home thinking it all over, "You are seeking after something that's 
not for you." 

"Well," I said, "People do have this blessing. There are 
Job Morris, and Polly Waters, and others, and they say they are 
sanctified, and everybody believes them." 

"Oh! but they are almost ready to die. But you are young, 
and you cannot expect to have what they have." 

"Well, perhaps so," I said. 

"Then, you know, Father James said that the Bible did not 
mean that." But somehow my better judgment said he was 
wrong. "I believe what the Bible says, and there must be some 
way that this grace can be obtained, or God never would have left 
it on record." But how to get hold of it I still did not know. I 
would read my Bible, and pray, and pray on. No light — only the 
deep hunger. Of course I had comfort in doing my duty — 
attending my class meeting and prayer meetings, and I would go 
about and pray with the sick and dying, and work in revival 
meetings, and in all ways I could. After working hard all day 
many times I would be called up at twelve or one o'clock at night 
to go and pray with somebody that was sick or dying. I never 
refused to go, rain or shine, cold or warm; I felt it was my duty, 
and I was always glad to do it. Then I would come home, — 
sometimes at three o'clock — and have but very little sleep, and 
up and off to work again next morning, when I did not have work 
in the house. My meat and drink was to see souls coming to 
Christ. "I had no fear to go into a congregation and speak to men 
or women, young or old. I hardly ever went for persons in a 



Amaxda Smith* 



congregation, in time of extra meetings, but what they went for- 
ward, and many of them were converted. Praise God forever! 

And yet at times my spirit was vascillating. Sometimes high 
on the mountain. When I would tell of the rapture and joy Tfelt, 
sometimes the older brethren and sisters would say, " Ah, child, I 
was that way, too, when I first got converted; but you wait till the 
Devil shoots a few bomb-shells at you and you will not have so 
much joy." Poor me! I tried to look out for these bomb-shells. 
Oh! why didn't they tell me of the land of corn and wine and oil. 
and that the God of Caleb and Joshua was able, and would bring 
me in if I would only trust in Him? But, dear souls, they did not 
know it themselves, so could not help me. So one day I felt I 
must go and talk with Father James, for I had been reading the 
fourth chapter of second Thessalonians and third verse, "For 
this is the will of God, even your sanctification. " So I said, 
"Father James, I have been reading the Bible to-day, and I see 
this. " Then I quoted the text. 

" Oh! " he said. " my child, don't you know when people die 
very happy? " 

"Yes," I said. 

"Well, you know, God does not sanctify you until just before 
you are ready to die. Of course you could not go to heaven unless 
you were holy, and sanctiflcation makes you holy, and you could 
not live in this sinful world if you were holy. So if you were 
sanctified you would die." 

"Yes," I said. "Well, if it is going to kill me, I don't want 
it. I don't want to die. The Lord has done a great deal for me. 
I can do a little for Him; so I will just go on and do the best I 
can." So on I went. 

Some time after this I was reading the fifth chapter of Mat- 
thew, and when I got to the eleventh and twelfth verses I said, 
" My experience does not come up to this: ' Blessed are ye when 
men shall revile you and persecute you, and shall say all manner 
of evil against you falsely for my sake.' 'Rejoice and be exceed- 
ing glad, for great is your reward in heaven.' I cannot rejoice 
when anyone lies on me: it's no use; I can't do it." Then came 
up all my good works. "I go to church; I attend to all my duties: 
I do not go about meddling with other people's affairs; I mind my 
own business; and when anybody says anything about me that is 
not true, I must have satisfaction. I am not going to stand it." I 



88 



Autobiography of 



had not read, " They that love God in Christ Jesus shall suffer per- 
secution." But, Oh! haven't I learned it since then. One day 
one of the dearest friends I had, as I thought, told a real lie on me. 
It made quite a stir. I wondered where all the coolness came 
about in different directions, but did not know the real cause. So 
I made up my mind I would go and ask the parties what the mat- 
ter was. So I got down and prayed that the Lord would give me 
the right spirit, and not let me get vexed, and not let the parties 
get vexed, and make them tell me what the matter was. So off I 
started a little after nine o'clock in the morning. I walked till 
about two o'clock in the afternoon, and found myself about as 
near the truth when I stopped as when 1 started. The first place 
I called I said to the friend, calling her by name, " I hear so and 
so; I came to ask you what about it? " 

"All I know," she replied, "is what John B. said that Mary 
S. said that you said that I said that she said," and so on. 

Well, I went to the next parties. They said the same thing: 
"Well, all I know about it is Ann So and So said that you said 
that she said that I said that they said," etc. I went the round, 
then started home, so ashamed and disgusted. As soon as I got 
home I took off my wraps, went down into the cellar and got down 
on my knees, where I always went to settle hard difficulties, and I 
said, " Oh! Lord, if you will help me, I will never, while I live, go 
after another lie." And thank God I never have, though some- 
times I have been tempted; but the Lord has always delivered me. 
Praise His dear name! Amen. 

Some months after this I got interested in the subject of 
baptism, and I thought if I were immersed it would help me to 
see the way better. So I went to Father James and told him I 
would like to be immersed. My father and mother had all of us 
children baptized, as the discipline of the Methodist Church 
required; but I thought if I could answer for myself it would be 
better Then if I came up to all that the Bible said as far as I 
knew, the Lord would be obliged to give me the great blessing I 
sought. Father James did not discourage me in this, but rather 
was favorable. So this helped me to think that I was on the right 
track now. There were four or five others who wanted to be 
immersed also; so I went around to see them, and it was decided 
to send to Philadelphia for a good brother and local preacher in 
the African Methodist Church, a sanctified man named Brother 



Amanda Smith. 



89 



Jones. Some years before there was a great revival in Columbia, 
and some six or eight of the converts wanted to be baptized. So 
they sent to Philadelphia and got Rev. Bob Collins, who was a 
powerful preacher in his day, and a leading minister in the A. M. 
E. Church. It was in the dead of winter. The Susquehanna 
river was frozen over, and they cut the ice, and Brother Collins 
baptized eight, I think it was. And they shouted and sang. 
They stood on the shore and all around on the ice by hundreds. 
It was six o'clock in the morning. Oh! what a time! Of course 
all the Baptists believed in that, and they were out, and rejoiced 
with them that did rejoice. Our minister at that time was Rev. 
Sanford. His wife's sister, Henney Johnson, had been very sick, 
and she had got converted. But she leaned toward the Baptists. 
So to save her to her church, she was baptized that Sunday, and 
she got well after that, which was a great wonder to many. Sister 
Harriet N. Baker was one of the strong members in the church. 
She was baptized the same Sunday morning. Lancaster was only 
twelve miles from Columbia, so that we in Lancaster got water 
struck! For most all the colored people in Lancaster would go to 
Columbia to quarterly meeting. Oh! how I have seen the power 
of God displayed in the salvation of souls. What men and women 
they were to pray in those days. How I remember Candes Watson, 
Sarah Henderson, Chris Stokes, Simon Morris. John Morris. Jake 
Snively, and a host of others. How they come before me now, as I 
think it all over. But all these have gone, though it seems but as 
yesterday. 

But to return to my story. After I had seen the parties 
I went to Father James and asked him to write to Brother Jones 
and find out what the cost would be. He replied that we were to 
pay him twenty dollars and his traveling expenses from Philadel- 
phia and back. I was willing to pay him a month's wages, which 
was six dollars, if the others would make up the balance. So they 
were to try. A few weeks passed, then one of the leading ones in 
the number, Sister Maxwell, was taken sick, and her husband 
would not let her go into the water. Brother Williams went away. 
I had got my dress ready, but the others all backed out. Then 
Father James was taken sick. So he said that March was a bad 
month to go into the water, so if I would wait until April or May 
he would perform the ceremony. But alas! Poor man! About 
the first of April I stood by his bedside and saw him die, and 
heard his last words. 



90 



Autobiography of 



It was Sunday evening, and after I had come from church I 
went to sit with Sister James, his wife. It was about half past 
ten or eleven o'clock p. m., and the old man seemed to be sleeping 
quietly. All at once he roused up and coughed and made a noise 
as though something was in his throat. I said, "Father James, 
what is the matter? Do you want a drink of water? " 

"No," he said, "there seemed to be a big black man stand- 
ing by me running red hot irons down my throat." 

Oh! how disappointed I was. For I wanted him to get sancti- 
fied a few minutes before he died, as he had taught me. But now 
all was over, and I had no one to go and talk to, but must wander 
on in darkness. Not a ray of light could I see. 

After a year or two I went to Philadelphia. There I was mar- 
ried to my second husband, James Smith. Then I had given up 
seeking the blessing definitely, and so went on. Several years later 
on, we moved to New York; and, after many more trials, that I 
have already referred to, I was deeply convicted again for the need 
of heart purity. And again I began to seek it by works. I read 
in the Bible, "If I, your Lord and Master, wash your feet, ye 
ought also to wash one another's feet," John, 13:15. There were 
four of us sisters who had united in a band to pray for mutual 
help to each other; Sister Scott, Sister Bangs, Sister Brown, and 
myself. I told them what the Bible said about it, and they all 
agreed. I did not tell them I was seeking the blessing of holi- 
ness. I was afraid they might say something to turn me aside, 
and I was so hungry. So I got ready, and I thought as there were 
only four of us, and we were trying to help each other, that it 
would be right for all four of us to be together at this time. But 
now I praise the Lord that He did not allow this to come to pass, 
though I did not know then that He was hindering them, as I do 
now. I was the only one that had a small baby. Sister Bangs 
and Sister Brown had no families, and Sister Scott's children were 
all grown. So I had them come and meet at my house every Mon- 
day afternoon. Sister Scott always came. Sister Bangs would be 
there one afternoon, and Sister Brown would not be there. Then 
when Sister Brown was there, Sister Bangs wouldn't be there. So 
they were never all there at once. Still I held on and thought it 
was best not to have this feet-washing done unless we were all 
together. So I told the sisters and they agreed with me that the 
four, ought to be together. We did not try to get up a society of 



Amanda Smith. 



01 



this kind, but "just we four united for our own mutual help. After- 
three or four weeks went on, and we were defeated every time, I 
decided not to do it. I prayed about it, and it seemed to come to 
me that I was not to do it. So that is how the Lord saved me 
from the mistake of seeking salvation by works. How I ever praise 
Him for His loving kindness, and for His tender mercy, and for 
His great patience and forbearance with me. I see now that if I 
had not been hindered as I was, that I should have gone about 
teaching that immersion, and the washing of feet, were necessary 
in order to be sanctified, which would have been a great mistake, 
but the Lord saved me from it. Praise His name. Amen! 



CHAPTER VIII, 



MY FIRST TEMPTATION, AND OTHER EXPERIENCES — I GO TO NEW 
UTRECHT TO SEE MY HUSBAND — A LITTLE EXPERIENCE AT 
BEDFORD STREET CHURCH, NEW YORK — FAITH HEALING. 

For about three weeks after God had sanctified my soul, he 
seemed to let me walk above the world. 

" 1 then rode on the sky, 
Freely justified I, 
Nor did envy Elijah his seat. 
My glad soul mounted higher, 
In a chariot of fire, 
And the moon it was under my feet. 
I could not believe 
That I ever should grieve, 
That I ever should suffer again." 

But the Lord knew I must be disciplined for service. He 
began by degrees to let me down, and the tempter seemed to be let 
loose upon me. I have said the Devil turned his hose on me, for it 
was as though a man was washing a sidewalk or carriage, Satan 
seemed to come at me in various ways, in such power. I settled 
down in God, I got where I could not make a single effort to pray 
or do anything. I was helpless — I could not get out of the way. 
Oh, what temptations! So I said, "Well, fire away, but I will trust 
in God, though he slay me." It was dark, but it was not long 
till light broke in and drove the darkness all away. 

Why does God permit these fierce temptations? It is, I be- 
lieve, first, to develop the strength and muscle of your own soul 
and so prepare you for greater service, and second, to bring you 
into sympathy with others, that are often sorely tempted after 
they are sanctified, so that you can help them. For example: 

" (92) 



Amanda Smith. 



93 



After the dreadful temptation I have spoken of I met two persons 
that were suffering from the assaults of the old Accuser, as I had. 
One was at Sea Cliff, the other at Chester Heights Camp Meeting. 
The lady at Sea Cliff was a very interesting, intelligent lady. She 
was Assistant Superintendent of a Sabbath School, as well as a 
school teacher. She had a large Bible class of young persons and 
had great influence with them, and with tin* church, where she 
was a member. She came from Greenpoint or Williamsburg. I 
don't remember which. She had sought and found the great 
blessing of full salvation, and had walked in the blessed light and 
comfort of it for over a year, and was very helpful to many of her 
friends, and. especially, to her large Bible class of young people, a 
number of whom had been led to consecrate themselves fully to 
the Lord, and had come out into the clear light of this experience 
of perfect love through her instrumentality; Of course Satan would 
hinder her from such a work as that, so he cast a heavy black 
cloud over her soul, and she was in dreadful darkness for three 
months. She went over and over her consecration to see if she 
had taken anything back in any way. Xo. she knew she had been 
true up to all the light God had given her, still Satan accused her 
and told her there was something wrong or she would not have 
this cloud hanging over her. She was afraid to tell her young 
believers for fear she would discourage them, so she had to go on 
with her work testifying definitely to what God had done for her, 
but only held on by naked faith. Many times after she would get 
home from meetings she would spend hours in her room weeping 
and praying before the Lord, but no help came. The tempter 
would assail her as being a hypocrite and testifying to what she 
did not feel in her heart, but God helped her to stick to her facts. 
She had given herself to the Lord, and she was His. darkness or 
light, joy or no joy. it did not alter the fact, and she decided to 
declare it. When she came to Sea Cliff in this state of mind she 
was obedient. She would testify and tell just her state, then she 
came forward for help. As she would tell her sad story she would 
weep bitterly; then different ones would try and tell her what to 
do, and she said I am willing to do anything: so one and another 
would say do this or that; then she was asked to come forward. 
She would be the first one to go and kneel to get help and light. 
Everybody seemed to be in great sympathy with her and tried to 
help her. I saw where she was and knew she was under a temp 



94 



Autobiography of 



tation of the Devil, but I was a colored woman, I did not like to 
push myself forward. I heard this young woman's story for three 
days, so I used to pray for her, but never got a chance to speak to 
her. One morning Sister Inskip was leading a young people's 
meeting in a tent on the upper part of the ground. I slipped in 
and sat down on one of the outer seats. T see now why the Lord 
seated me there. The tent filled up, and Sister Inskip talked and 
then asked others to speak. Again this dear young lady got up, 
and said she had got what she came for, she had got some help, 
but she had to go home that day, and she would rather die than 
go home as she was. Mrs. Inskip said, 44 Well, just give yourself 
to the Lord." 

"Oh," I thought, over and over, "why don't she tell her to 
shout." 

No one ever had intimated that it was a temptation from 
Satan. When they went to kneel down this young woman knelt 
right in front of me so that I did not have to move from the seat I 
had taken, and, while Mrs. Inskip was speaking and helping 
others, I leaned forward and said to this lady, " That is a tempta- 
tion of the Devil; you praise the Lord and he will bring you out." 

She looked up, and through her blinding tears, said, 44 Oh, 
Amanda Smith, were you ever so since you were sanctified? " 

"Yes, my child, I was. I was shut up in prison for three 
weeks and only just got out the other day." 

44 Oh," she said, t4 Isee it. Now Satan has been telling me 
that sanctified people never had a cloud." 

"Don't you mind him," I said, "Praise the Lord." 

44 Glory to Jesus!" She sprang to her feet and cried, " I have 
got the victory, I am saved, I can go home, Jesus has set me free, 
O, Praise the Lord." 

"Whom the Son makes free is free indeed." Hallelujah! 

Then I saw that my experience in the weeks before, had been 
made a blessing to her, just as Job's experience was intended to 
be a blessing to men and women through all coming time. 

I went to New Utrecht, to Mr. Roberts', to see my husband, 
James Smith. His son-in-law, John Bentley, was there when I 
went. Whatever had gone before, I do not know. I knew this 
young man. He had been at my house in New York. I had 
treated him well, and had done my very best for him, and his wife 
also. But that day he cursed me, and told me I had no business 



Amanda Smith. 



95 



there. I thought it was strange he should talk so to me, and I 
believe he incurred the displeasure of God, as did Elymas, the 
sorcerer, who withstood Paul and sought to turn away from the 
faith Sergius Paulus, a prudent man who had called for Barnabas 
and Saul, and desired to hear the word of God. But this man 
withstood them. But Paul, being full of the Holy Ghost, set his 
eyes on him, and said: "Oh! full of all subtilty and mischief, 
thou child of the Devil, thou enemy of all righteousness, wilt thou 
not yet cease to pervert the right ways of the Lord? And now, 
behold! the hand of the Lord is upon thee. Thou shalt be blind, 
not seeing the sun for a season." " And immediately there fell on 
him a mist and darkness, and he went about seeking some one to 
lead him by the hand," (Acts 13:8-12.) So, that day in New 
Utrecht, John Bentley came in, as I was in the next room talking 
with James, my husband. I had gone over to see him. My rent 
was due, and he had not been over for two weeks, and had not 
sent me any money. I was not well, and Imy baby was sick, and I 
was insisting that James should give me some money, at least 
the sixty cents that it cost me to come over from New York. But 
he would not. I was crying and talking, for my heart was almost 
broken. So, when John Bentley cursed and swore at me, I turned 
to him quietly, and said: "Why, John Bentley, haven't I a right 
to come where my own husband is?" But he was fierce. I did 
not know but he was going to strike me. But I went up to him 
and looked him in the face, and said to him: " When you have 
been at my house, haven't I always treated you well? I have 
never laid a straw in your way in my life; and I don't know wh} r 
you should speak to me in such a way." 

He went on talking and abusing me terribly. There seemed 
to come an indescribable power over me, and I turned and lifted 
my hand toward him, and I said to him: " Mind, John Bentley, the 
God that I serve will make you pay for this before the year is out." 

He said: "Well, I don't care if He does. Let Him do it." 

He had not more than said the words when he seemed to 
tremble and stagger. There was a chair behind him, and he 
dropped down into the chair. I never saw him from that day. 
This was about two weeks before Christmas, and before the New 
Year came, John Bentley was dead and buried! 

I always feel sad when I think of it, but I believe that God 
was displeased with that man for cursing me that day. 



96 



Autobiography of 



My husband, James Smith, was formerly of Baltimore, Md. 
He was for many years a leader of the choir of Bethel A. M. E. 
Church, in that city. Afterward he moved to Philadelphia, and 
was ordained deacon in the A. M. E. Church. He died in 
November, 1869, at New Utrecht, N. Y. Since then I have been a 
widow, and have traveled half way round the world, and God has 
ever been faithful. He has never left me a moment; but in all 
these years I have proved the word true, "Lo! I am with you 
always, even to the end." 

" Sometimes 'mid scenes of deepest gloom, 
Sometimes where Eden's bowers bloom, 
fey waters still, or troubled sea, 
Still, 'tis my God that leadeth me." 

Amen. Amen. 

I had told the Lord I would be obedient and would do all he 
bade me, so one day while I was busy at work it was whispered to 
my heart, " You go to Bedford Street on Sunday." 

" Yes," I said, " I will." I always liked to go and hear Rev. 
John Cookman, who was then pastor. Sunday morning came; it 
was Easter Sunday. My friend, Sister Scott, and I went. Strange 
to say, but the usher took us up front, in what is or used to be 
called " The Amen Corner. " I shall never forget John Cookman's 
text and sermon. The words were: "See that ye make all things 
after the pattern shown you in the Mount." 

O, what a congregation, and what power the young man 
seemed to have in those days. He brought out holiness so clear 
and definite. I had got wonderfully blest as they sang the old 
Easter Anthem, as only Bedford Street could sing it in those 
days. O, how it thrills me now as I think it all over! As Brother 
Cookman went on with his sermon, increasing in fervor and power, 
the Spirit whispered to me distinctly, "Raise up your right 
hand," and I was just going to do so, when the Devil said, just as 
distinctly, "Yes, you look nice lifting up your black hand before 
all the people " — and I drew back and did not do it. 

Then the Spirit said: " The other day you told the Lord you 
would do anything He would tell you to do." 

" O, yes," I said, "I did. O, Lord, forgive me and give me 
another chance and I will lift my hand for Thee! " 

By-and-by the Spirit said again, "Lift up your right hand," 



Amanda Smith. 



97 



and I did, and the power of the Spirit fell on the people and the 
whole congregation. There were "Amens," and '"Aniens," and 
sobs and weeping and " Praise the Lord," heard all over the house, 
and many were led out of prison by the simple act of obedience to 
God. He did not tell me to shout, but to lift my hand for Him, 
and the people shouted, and my own heart then filled with ador- 
ing praise. O, I would God I had always obeyed Him, then would 
my peace have flowed as the river, but many times I failed. Once 
on the car coming from Xew Utrecht, where I had gone to see my 
husband, I had a tract in my hand with a message for a lad that 
got in. I saw him look at me, and then turn quickly away as if 
he was afraid I would hand it to him. My heart was prompted to 
give it to him, but I kept hesitating. First, I said, "I will wait 
till some of the people get out." Then, I said, I will wait till I 
get out." The car stopped, the lad got out and ran away as 
though I was after him. I looked after him and wanted to call 
him, but he was gone. Then these words came to me in such 
force that I have never forgotten them, '* His blood will I require 
at your hand." I did nothing but pray to God for His pardoning 
and forgiving mercy from that hour till I got home; at last, I felt 
He forgave me and gave me peace in my heart. 

Here I desire to record some things the Lord taught me about 
what is now called faith, or divine healing. 

I think it was in October, 1868, not very long after I had got 
the blessing of sanctification. It seemed that my faith had 
increased and strengthened in this short time, so that I did not 
seem to find it difficult to believe God for anything I really needed. 
I had never heard of Dr. Cullis, Dr. Bordman, or Dr. Italian, of 
Oberlin, Ohio. I had never read a book or paper of any kind. I 
believed what I read in the Bible about the miracles performed by 
the Lord Jesus, opening the eyes of the blind, unstopping the ears 
of the deaf, and healing the sick, but thought it belonged to the 
days of miracles especially, and it was to prove to the unbelieving 
Jews the Divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ. I had often prayed 
for sick people, and asked the Lord to bless means that were used, 
and so many times He did it, as I believe in answer to prayer; 
but I never made any time about it, as though it were some espe- 
cial state of grace, so much higher than entire sanctification or 
holiness. So I went on claiming promises, quenching the violence 
of fire, escaping the edge of the sword, out of weakness was made 



98 



Autobiography of 



strong, waxing valiant in fight, and really turning to flight the 
armies of the aliens. And so found out that there is no want to 
them that fear the Lord. But I did not feel led to make a special 
gospel of the great and deep things God had taught me. The 
Gospel of Jesus was so full and practical, and with good, common 
sense it seemed to cover all my need. Praise the Lord for that 
lesson. For T find, no matter what the state of grace attained to 
in this life, one may ever learn some new lesson. Learn to know 
one's own self. Learn to know one's weakness. Learn to know 
the beauty of love and power and sympathy of Jesus Christ, our 
Lord and Savior. And so on. 

It was Saturday. I was very busy, as that is a busy day, 
especially with a washwoman. After I had swept my room I gave 
the dustpan to Mazie to carry out to the ash box that stood on the 
sidewalk. It was when I lived in the rear at 135 Amity street, 
New York. When she came in, she said, " O, ma, some one has 
thrown a lot of nice books into the ash box; some of them are almost 
new." She was very fond of reading, so she said, "May I bring- 
some in? " 

"Oh, no," I said, "Mazie; I have little enough room now, and 
I do not want any old books or trash brought in." But contrary 
to my orders, the child slipped three of these books into the house, 
and hid them in the little closet on the shelf behind the smooth- 
ing irons. In the bottom of this closet, on the floor, I kept my 
coal. I could put in about two pailfuls, which was about a half 
bushel, at a time. So on Monday morning after prayers, Mazie 
had gone to school, I went to put some coal in the stove and then 
was going to gather my clothes. But I noticed that my irons 
were not back on the shelf in their place properly. So I went to 
arrange them, and found these books. 

" There," I said, " I told Mazie not to bring any of these books 
in; she has not obeyed me." But as I looked at them I said, 
"Perhaps I should not have told her 'no' until I saw them; for 
they really are almost new." I don't remember what the two 
were, but the third was a small-sized book, entitled, "Child's 
Book on Physiology." So I began to read it. I looked through it. 
As I read on, its explanations, simple and so beautiful, of the 
human body in all its parts, in a way that any child could under- 
stand it, I got so interested that I sat down, though T was in such 
a hurry. After reading and thinking, I turned to the first page. 



Amanda Smith. 



99 



There was a cut of the human frame on the fly leaf. As I looked 
at it and studied it, I said, " Surely, as the Psalmist says, 1 Man is 
fearfully and wonderfully made," " Now, in my imagination, I 
covered that frame with flesh, and skin., and sinew, and blood, 
and pulse, and life. Then I got a pain, or rheumatism, in the left 
arm or back; and I said, "Now, there is a man suffering pain in 
his arm and back. I give him medicine in his mouth, and it 
must go all this round to reach that spot: when God, who made 
him, knows how to reach the difficulty direct." Now. all this 
was as I imagined. There was not a soul in the house but myself. 
So I said, lifting my eyes to heaven, "Oh! Lord, I will never take 
another bit of medicine while I live without you tell me to." And 
I got up and threw out all my medicines — I had a few simple 
remedies in the house — and for a year and eight months I never 
touched anything. Oh! what wonderful lessons the Lord taught 
me in that time. It did seem that He watched as a father would 
watch his child. Sometimes I would bring in a basket of clothes, 
and it would be so warm I would sit down between the window 
and doors so as to get the breeze quickly, and I would hear the 
Spirit whisper, as distinctly as a man. so gently, but clearly: 
" You are sitting in the draught." Often I have looked around to 
see if there was no f really a person speaking. If I was prompt and 
moved, it was all right. But sometimes I would say. when the 
whisper came, "Oh, yes, but I'm so warm: " and I would forget, 
until I would feel a pain in my back, or neck, or somewhere. 
Then I would at once look up to God and say, " Now, Lord, teach 
me the lesson you want I should learn: and then do please relieve 
me of this pain." Can you understand the patience and forbear- 
ance of God? I cannot. Sometimes He would bless me so: I 
would be so happy, I would whirl round and round and laugh and 
say, "Oh! Lord, how beautiful. I will never have to take any 
more medicine, and I can save the money that I spent for medi- 
cine for other purposes." But the Lord knew how to teach me, 
praised be His name. So at the expiration of a year and eight 
months, it was in November, I think, I took a severe cold. I 
never knew how I got that cold, and if the grippe had been known 
then, as now, I would have said I had it in its severest form. I 
never thought of medicine. The Lord was my physician, and had 
done everything I had asked for myself and my child for a year 
and eight months, so of course He would now. So I prayed as 



100 



Autobiography of 



aforetime, but still grew worse. Oh! how dreadfully ill I was. 
But I held on. Oh! how I did cry to God for deliverance. For 
three days and nights I could not lie down, my cough was so bad. 
I had a raging fever. My head ached, and every bone in my body 
ached. I still grew worse, until the morning of the fourth day. I 
tried to get my clothes on, but could not stand up long enough. 
"Oh! what shall I do?" 1 went in my bedroom and knelt down 
by a chair. Oh! how I cried and prayed. "Oh! Lord, what is 
the matter? What have I clone? Thou didst always heal me 
when I asked Thee; and iioav Thou seest I can hardly hold my 
head up, I am so sick. Oh! Lord, show me if I have done any- 
thing to displease Thee; make it clear to me, and forgive me, for 
Jesus' sake. Now, Lord, I will just be quiet till Thou dost speak 
to me and tell me what I have done, and why Thou dost not heal 
me as Thou usest to do." 

So I waited a few minutes; I don't know how long; then it 
seemed as though the Lord Jesus in person stood by me; such a 
peaceful hush came all over me, and He seemed to say, so ten- 
derly, Oh! so tenderly, "Now, if you knew the Lord wanted you 
to take medicine would you be willing? " 

kk No, Lord, you always have healed me without medicine, 
and why not now? What have I done? M 

Then it seemed just as though a person spoke and said, "No, 
no, but if you knew it was God's will, would you be willing?" I 
said, "No, Lord; you can heal me without medicine, and I don't 
want to take it." Then the patient, gentle voice said the third 
time, "No. no," and putting the question a little differently, said, 
" If you knew it was God's will for you to take medicine would 
you be willing to do God's will f " 

Oh! how I cried. I saw it, but I said, "No, Lord, I don't like 
medicine; but Thou canst conquer my will. T do not want to live 
with my will in opposition to Thy will. Thou must conquer." 

Oh! what a battle. It took me one whole hour before my will 
went down. I held on to the chair, for T felt I must get up, but I 
said, "No, I will die right here." But I held right on to the 
chair. I said, I will never rise from here until my will dies." 
And I knew when the death was given and when the victory 
came. I remained quiet, and thought it all over. And I said, 
"Lord, I thank Thee. Now tell me what I must do." For I felt 
if the Lord had said, "Now, you go over there on Sixth avenue to 



Amanda Smith. 



101 



the drug store, and take all the medicine, bottles and all," I was 
willing! Oh: I was willing all through: It seemed wonderfully 
sweet to die to my own will, and sink into God. So just then it 
came to me to use a simple remedy that I had used a thousand 
times before, and in twenty-four hours I was as well as ever. I 
never got over a cold like that before in my life in so short a time; 
a cold like that would always be a three weeks' siege. But I 
seemed to see what it all meant. God showed me. I was wor- 
shiping my will. 

Sometimes when I have told this strange experience to 
some of the good people in these days, they throw up their hands 
in holy horror and say, " Oh! I don't see how you could dare to say 
so." But I see the same spirit of will-worship in many of those 
who profess what they prefer to call " Divine healing; " the same 
spirit of will-worship that I had. But I do not think they know it. 
I am at no controversy with anybody on these lines. But, Oh: how 
I do thank and praise God for opening my eyes to see, and I think, 
understand His will concerning Amanda Smith. I do not believe 
in calling the doctor for every little thing, or making a drug store 
of one's self: but I believe it right when you need medicine or doc- 
tor, to use both, prayerfully, and with common-sense, with an eye 
single. But to say the use of means in sickness is contrary to the 
will of God, and that all Christians should have faith and trust 
the Lord to heal them without the use of means at all, even though 
their common-sense, which is as much God's gift to us as any 
other blessing, tells them to use the means, but must close their 
eyes, ignore all .symptoms, and by the force of will, which they 
must call "faith," ride over everything: — now this is where the 
tug of war comes in, with Amanda Smith. My neighbor prays, 
and is wonderfully healed: she is a Christian: so am I; we have 
both been blessed of God; I pray, and am not healed: someone 
tells me it is a lack of # faith on my part, or there is something 
wrong in my consecration, or there is something wrong in me 
somewhere, and that is the reason I am not healed. Xow comes 
the question: " How do you know that? Who told you so? " So 
that I must either stand judged, or else I must judge, and where 
do I get my authority for so doing? The Lord help me. Amen. 

The days of miracles are not past. God has healed without 
the use of means of any kind, as well as with; and why He does 
not now heal every case as He used to do, I do not think I have any 



102 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OP 



right to say is because of a lack of faith on the part of some poor, 
weak child of God; and so consign them to perdition. Then there 
are some things God would have us do for ourselves. Not long 
ago I was at the home of a good minister, a man that knew the 
Lord, and for years had walked in the light and blessedness of full 
salvation. He had begun to get deaf in his right ear; it came on 
gradually; sometimes worse than at other times. So he prayed 
earnestly, and believed God, and held on about a year. Finally he 
seemed to grow worse. His wife, a good, saved, orthodox, level- 
headed woman, had often said to him he ought to see a doctor 
about it. But he had a pretty strong will of his own, and did not 
yield easily to her persuasions. But she was gentle and patient. 
One morning as he was sitting in the room talking with me, she 
came in and said, " Now, my dear, you must really go and see the 
doctor this morning about your deafness; let him examine it; you 
are getting worse all the time, and it will never do to have you 
going around deaf." 

The good man looked at his wife, then he turned to me and 
said, smilingly, "Sister Smith, my wife is generally pretty clear 
when she decides upon a thing." 

"Yes, Sister Smith," she said, 41 it would do no harm to go 
and see about it, anyhow." 

"Sister M.," I said, "you are quite right; just what I say." 

So off he went. He was gone about two hours. When he 
returned, I said, "Well, Brother M., what did the doctor say?" 

"Oh! praise the Lord, " he said, "I am all right; clear as a 
bell." So he told the story, and laughed heartily.* I said, "What 
did the doctor do? " 

"Oh," he said, "he told me to sit down and he would examine 
my ear; he said there was nothing serious the matter; the wax 
was very dry. So he took his instruments and took out about a 
thimbleful of wax, and put a little sweet oil or something in it, 
and it is all right." 

"Yes," I said, "praise the Lord. Some people would have 
teased the Lord to have Him clean out their ears, when they might 
do it themselves, or get someone to do it to whom God had given 
the sense and ability." 



CHAPTER IX. 

VARIOUS EXPERIENCES — HIS PRESENCE — OBEDIENCE — MY TEMP- 
TATION TO LEAVE THE CHURCH — WHAT PEOPLE THINK — 
SATISFIED. 

One day I was busy with my work and thinking and com- 
muning with Jesus, for I found out that it was not necessary to be 
a nun or be isolated away off in some deep retirement to have 
communion with Jesus; but, though your hands are employed in 
doing your daily business, it is no bar to the soul's communion 
with Jesus. Many times over my wash-tub and ironing table, and 
while making my bed and sweeping my house and washing my 
dishes I have had some of the richest blessings. Oh. how glad I 
am to know this, and how many mothers' hearts I have cheered 
when I told them that the blessing of sanctification did not mean 
isolation from all the natural and legitimate duties of life, as some 
seem to think. Not at all. It means God in you, supplying all 
your needs according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus; our 
need of grace and patience and long suffering and forbearance, 
for we have to learn how not only to bear, but also to forbear with 
infirmities of ourselves and others as well. 

I return to my story. Thus as I thought, I asked again, "I 
wonder why the Lord did not sanctify me fully when he justified 
me? He was God, and He could have done it; He could have done 
it all at once if He had had a mind to." Then the question, 
44 Well, why didn't He do it?" and I was blocked. I believe that 
question was from Satan; he intended to make me think unkindly 
of God. "Here you have been struggling all these years; God 
could have done it all at once; but why didn't He do it?" "Yes," 
I said, " that is so." 

44 Well, why didn't he do it? " And I was so sad I began to cry 
and said, "Lord, I don't know why you did not sanctify me 

(103) 



104 



A | i OBIOGRAPHY OF 



wholly when you justified me freely; bul I know you have not, 
done it..' 1 Then the blessed Holy Spirit came so sweetly and 
answered my Question by asking me another, "Why didn't Jesus 
make the blind man see the first time He touched his ♦•yes?" 
Alter the first touch Jesus bade him look, and asked him what be 
saw. lie said, " I see men as trees walking*" 

Then fie touched him a^ain arid he Haid he Saw every man 
cles rly. 

\\< was Christ with the same powei n His first touch as He 
had wiiii the second. He cbtfld have made the i>i j rjci man see 
clearly the fif§\ time, hut He did not. 

u Why," I said, " Lord, I see it, ;md it [g none Of my husiriess 

why you didn't sanctify me fully when you converted me; it Is 
enough for rue to know that you have done it. 1 ' I came into 
light and liberty praising the Trinity. I quit asking God ques 
lions about His own work. \ thmk it is impertinence, and ye! 

how many do this very Ihinir, and when they don't get Jin answer 

to satisfy themselves they become perplexed and then land in 
skepticism with regard to the whole doctrine and truth or this 
grea t salvn t ion 

(>ne of th<- first things \ discovered after I came into the 
blessed light and experience of f ull salvation was a steady and 
appropriating faith that i never realized before, i always be- 
lieved the Bible and all the promises, but f did not seem to have 
power to appropriate t he promises to my soul's need; hut after 
t he light broke in and my darkness had fled, power was /given me 
not only to believe the promises, hut to appropriate them. 

"My!" I said, as \ would fead the promises, "that is mine, 

nnd that Is mine; 99 and it was like when the sailers net then 

Sails; I took hold of them and Wrapped them round me and walked 
up and down in possession of the hmd. All things are yours, and 

>e are Christ's, and ( heist is God's, i sang< 
" A ii things are mine, 

Since I am His — 

Mow can I keep from siri^ini'V 

One, day as I was busy about my room i seemed to feel the 

conscious presence of Jesus. I sa w nothing with my eyes, hut I 
Seemed l<> he conscious of t he presence of a Holy Beiftg hy me ;i,nd 
around me, and I talked with Him, and I was saying, "Now, if 
anyone should ask me to I * • 1 1 the dilference hetween justification 



Amanda Smith. 



105 



and sanctification, how could I tell them? There is a difference; 
I know it; I feel it; but I don't know how to tell it." And the 
dear Lord Jesus seemed to answer my question by asking another. 
He said: " What is the difference between sunlight and moon- 
light? " In a moment I saw it. I knew the beauty*of the lovely 
moonlight, r had -read by its brightness, and had often sewed at 
night, and it was beautiful. That was my justified state. How 
many times, I did not understand clearly, as in the sunlight; but 
the deeper experience was in power like sunlight in the natural 
world. It penetrates all the dark corners. If there is even a 
small nail-hole in a door, or a crack anywhere, the sun finds it out 
and looks through; then it heats up everything all about it. 
There can be no frost where the sunlight is; but it is tropical all 
the time. There were deep recesses in my heart that the moon- 
light did not reveal, but when the great sunlight of sanctification 
came, how it seemed almost to eclipse the moonlight state of 
justification, save the abiding consciousness of the time when 
God wrought that first work in my soul. I no longer sang the old 
hymn, 

" The midsummer sun shines but dim; 
The fields strive in vain to look gay, 
But when I am happy in Him, 
December 's as pleasant as May." 

That means two distinct states as real as the moonlight and 
sunlight. I knew it was true, but, O, why should there be a 
December in my heart when I may have the beaming sun? When 
the Holy Ghost came to my soul in sanctifying power it was the 
inaugural of a perpetual May-day that shall go on increasing in 
faith, and light, and strength, and power, and thanksgiving, and 
praise, and rest, and peace, and triumph forever and ever and 
ever. Amen. Amen. 

How true this old hymn of Charles Wesley's: 

" I find Him in singing; 
I find Him in prayer; 
In sweet meditation, 
He ahvays is there. 
My constant companion, 
Oh, may we ne'er part, 
All glory to Jesus, 
He dwells in my heart. 



A UTOBI0GRAPHI OF 



One day I was meditating >j r » ^ j thinking upon If is goodness. 
M\ hi art whs full of praiv; as I thought of all the Lord had done, 
and I said, " ( >U, I will not nged to pray now, as I used to do." 
Just then these words cajme; " The children of Israel gathered 

manna fn-sh ^v-ry rriorni ng. " I said. " Yes, Je$US f " I knew He 

meant to. teach me that it must, be daily bread my sou) irpuld 
rj'-« d, and as my natural need was met each daj , so my spiritual 
need must b<- met by prayer and the reading of His Holy Word 
and the appropriating of His promises. Without this all else 

would avail nothing. 

How I marvel at Ood's patience with me when I think how 
He led me about, to teach me how to be obedient, in spite of all 

Satan's devices. 

I was working up town one day, as the lady wanted some 
blankets washed. The, morning I was to go I had slept rather 
late. I was to have been there at seven o'clock. A long walk 
from Fourth streel to Twenty-third street. 1 relt led to take 
some tracts. I ;iiw;i}s kept a lot. on hand arid would take them 
when I went out, generally looking over th« m so as to see and 
know just, what J was giving away. This morning Satan seemed 

to hurry me. " Vou will be too late if you stop to sort. the 
tracts." 

kt Yes.'" I said, 7 I am afraid so.*' Then the Spirit, would 

seem to say, "Take the tracts/ 1 Then [picked up a handful and 
began to look over them. Then I got so nervous. Satan said, kt You 

know that lady will not. pay you if you are not there at, seven.*" 

44 Yes,'' I said, "she is hard about money anyhow. So 1 lair] 

the tracts down and Started off, and it seemed to me 1 never sa w 
BO many opportunities Where I could have given a tract as I did 

that morning. When I got to the house the lady said she would 
not have the blankets washed that day: I should come the next 
week. And I saw how Satan had hindered me. How sorry J was 
I did not listen to the good Spirit and take the tracts. God knew 
the washing whs not to be done that day. and that is why He 

Whispered SO gently to my heart. 'Take the tracts.'' I don't 
know who lost the blessing by my not giving them, but I know I 
lost a blessing by not obeying. O, it. is so safe to obey even though 
it. may be dark. A few days later on, I went, and as I had sorted my 

tracts, l prayed that the Lord would show me to whom to give 
them; and what a good time J had. 1 met a very fine looking 



Amanda Smith. 



107 



man and as I looked at him I trembled; but as he drew near] 
said. "Now. Lord, help me.' 1 I had. met some colored men and 
had given them some tracts and spoken a word, and the Devil 
said, M That is a white gentleman, and he will curse you." 

But when he came near I said, "Pardon me, sir: will you have 
a tract?" 

He seemed thoroughly astonished, but very pleasant and cour- 
teous. He took the tract and thanked me. A couple of weeks 
after, a friend said to me, "Did you give a tract to a young man 
on Sixth avenue last week? " 

" Yes. " 

" Well," she said. " It was you. then. I was working for Mrs. 
A., and she told me that her son came home so happy and told her 
that a colored woman had given him a tract, and that he had never 
read anything that had done him so much good as that tract." 

O. how the mother and son rejoiced together. Her dear boy 
that she had prayed for so long had found peace and joy in the 
Lord. How strange it should come about in the way it did. but 
God moves in mysterious ways His wonders to perform. On a little 
further, I passed two men: they were musicians. They stood talk- 
ing, and as I came near them a deep feeling came over me to give 
those men a tract. My heart beat quickly, but just as I got near 
thnm they seemed to think what I was going to do, so they started 
and walked across on the side. I said. " Lord, if you want me to 
give that man a tract, if there is a word that Thou dost want him 
to have, make him cross the next corner back again." O, how I 
did pray! Sure enough he did cross over the next corner and met 
me face to face and took a tract, and thanked me and seemed 
deeply impressed. Praise God. 

At another time. One night I was crossing to Williamsburg 
on the fprry boat. I had a good religious paper in my hand, which 
had a good sermon in it and some experiences. I said I will take 
this and give it to some one, men are more willing to take a paper 
than a tract. On the boat a nice looking lad sat just opposite me, 
and as I looked at him the Spirit said, ''Give him that paper." 
Again I looked and thought I will give it to him before we get out. 
Then something seemed to say, " Give it to this other man that 
looks more thoughtful." 

" Xo," it came to me, k> Give it to that lad." 

I got up and handed it to him. He took it and threw it under- 



108 



Autobiography of 



neath the bench. Then said Satan, 44 Now you have made a mis- 
take, you would better have- given it to the man." 

But I lifted my heart in prayer and said, " Now, Lord„ if there 
is anything in that paper that Thou dost want that young man to 
know, make him pick it up. Lord, don't let him go out, make 
him pick up that paper/' I continued to pray, and we were near- 
ing the shore. I saw the fellow was very restless. (), how I did 
beg the Lord to make him pick it up, 1 felt it had a word for him. 
Just as the boat struck the dock, he stooped down and picked up 
the paper and put it in his pocket and ran away. Just then the 
grand old text came: 44 If ye shall ask anything in My name, I 
will do it," (John 14:14). 

I think it was November, 1869. On my way home one evening 
from work, I met a friend on Sixth avenue. She said to me, 
44 Smith, are you going to the Fair to-night?" 

44 No," I said, 44 1 am tired and shall not go." 

"I have two tickets, if you like to go I will give them to you." 

44 All right," I said, 44 If I feel better after I get home I will go. 
You know I never go to such places unless the Lord wants me to 
do something for Him." 

44 Well, she said, 44 1 wish you would go." 

I went to my home at thirty-five Amity street, and as I prayed 
and asked the Lord, it was very clear to me I was to go. It was a 
damp, rainy evening, and I would think. "Well, it is too damp 
and I will not go." Then it would come to me, 44 Go. take some 
tracts." 

I knew I would be criticised, fori had become a speckled bird 
among my own people on account of the profession of the blessing 
of holiness. Remarks would be made, 44 There is Amanda Smith, 
with her sanctification again." So I knew all that would be said, 
but I said, 44 Lord help me, and I will go for Thee. Tell me what 
Thou dost want me to do." 

I went in, and there were quite a number; all seemed to look 
at me, remarks passed, and then all went on as they would there. 
I walked about and spoke to several, then I sat down and lifted 
my heart in prayer, and said, 44 Lord, I have no business here, and 
why should I stay, make it clear what you want me to do;" and 
these words were spoken to my heart distinctly, 44 Go stand in the 
way." I got up and went and stood at the top of the stairs where 
the people were coming up. Several persons passed up, then came 



Amanda Smith. 



109 



two young men full of glee. The Spirit seemed to pick out one 
especially, and said. " Speak to that young man *' I did: he was 
respectful as he could be, but said it was time enough for him, 
and with a toss of the head turned away. 

I handed some tracts to several others, then the Lord seemed 
to say. "You may go home." I went out, and felt that I had done 
as T was told, but how strange that I should not do anything but 
that. I went home and bore this young man up to God. This, I 
think, was on Wednesday evening. On Saturday, as I was carry- 
ing some clothes home, I met some one on Sixth avenue and they 
said. " Did you hear that Charlie S. is dead?" 

"Xo." 

"Well, he is, he was found dead in his bed this morning; he 
was at the Fair the other night, well and hearty." I went and 
looked at him. There he was. dead, no sign of sickness, and the 
very young man that God had sent me to speak to. He looked as 
though he were asleep. O. how sad it was, and yet how glad I was 
that I had strength given me that night to obey the Lord, and do 
as I thought He led me, whether the young man would hear, or 
whether he would forbear. 

I seemed to see the inconsistencies of the brethren and sisters 
so much more than I ever had before. I had seen some before, as 
I suppose most people do. I saw my own. and what the Lord had 
saved me from, and I wanted everybody to get saved right away. 
Brother Patterson was pastor of the Sullivan Street A. M. E. 
Church at the time I got the blessing. He enjoyed the experience 
and preached the doctrine. But colored people are like some 
white people: although the church prospered under his adminis- 
tration, and we had a wonderful revival during the two years, and 
the church was built up and edified, yet many of them did not 
like him. After he left, Rev. Nelson Turpin was sent to us. He 
was fierce. He openly opposed and denounced the doctrine and 
experience of the blessing of full salvation, although there were a 
number in the church, some among the leading members, who 
claimed to have the experience. He was very popular with the 
great mass. The church was crowded. Then we poor souls who 
dared to testify definitely in a Love Feast, or in a General Class, 
might expect a raking; and especially on Sunday nights, when the 
church would be crowded, he would take especial pains to tell 
some ridiculous inconsistency about some sanctified sister or 



110 



Autobiography of 



brother that he used to know. Then, if a sister, he would say: 
" They put on a plain bonnet and shawl and wear a long face, but 
they are sanctified Devils." Then all eyes would be turned on 
Sister Scott and myself, for we wer^ about the only ones that 
dressed in the way described. Then there would be a regular gig- 
gle all over the house. How much I had to contend with. Hence 
my temptation to leave the church. Then I did not like fairs and 
festivals and all the rest of it. But God saved me from backslid- 
ing over any of those things. Then I was in bondage to my 
clothes; in bondage to other people's clothes. If they were not 
made just as I thought they ought to be it troubled me, and I did 
not care if I did not hear them speak and pray in pra} T er meeting. 
I had rather not kneel at communion with these dressed-up people. 
Then I was afraid of Brother Turpin. At first he was very kind; 
but after a little while he would always try to shun me. But I 
would follow him up, ask him to come to see me, and would go 
to see Sister Turpin and the children. But he would always be 
very formal and cold. My! how afraid of him I did get! So one 
day Mother Jones said to me, " Sister Smith, if I were you I would 
not say anything about sanctification. You see people do not like 
it, and they persecute you, and I do not like to hear them." 

"Well, but Mother Jones," I said, "the Lord has blessed me 
so. and I can't help it." Then she laughed and took hold of me 
so kindly, and said, " I would not say anything about it if I were 
you." 

So I went home and thought how Mother Jones sympathized 
with me. So I began to be very indefinite in my testimony. I 
chose words that the people would like. I would say, "I am all 
the Lord's." They would say, "Amen!" Or, if I said, "Jesus 
saves me fully," or "The blood cleanseth," they would say, 
"Amen! " to that. But if I used the word "sanctify," then there 
was a rustling among the dry bones. Then look out for the next 
testimony, especially if in a General Class or Love Feast. Thank 
God, He led my class leader, Henry De Shields, into the experi- 
ence in answer to pra} T er, just three weeks after I got the blessing. 
So while " Pop " Scott, who was assistant class leader, never came 
out clear, Brother De Shields was a power and a great help to 
myself, and to many. He still lives in New York, and at this 
writing is walking in the light of full salvation. Still, I was afraid 
of Brother Turpin. Then darkness came over me, and the joy 



Amanda Smith. 



Ill 



and peace all seemed to be gone. I did not know what ailed me. 
So I set apart Friday to fast and pray, and find out the cause of 
this darkness. Satan suggested many things, but I held on and 
cried to God for light and help. So, about two p. m., though I had 
stopped my work and gone away and prayed a number of times 
that day, I took my Bible and knelt down to pray. And I said: 
"Oh! Lord, show me what is the matter. Why is this darkness 
in my mind? 01 Lord, make it clear to me." And the Spirit 
seemed to say to me very distinctly. "Read.'' And I opened my 
Bible, and my eyes lighted on these words: " Perfect love casteth 
out fear. He that feareth has not been made perfect in love." 
Thenlsaid: " Lord, if I am not, I will be now. " Then I saw what 
was the matter. Fear! And I said: " Oh! Lord, take all the man- 
fearing spirit out of me. I thank Thee for what Thou hast done for 
me, but deliver me from fear. Take all the woman-fearing spirit out 
of me, and give me complete victory over this fear." And, thank 
the Lord, He did it. There was no especial manifestation, but 
there was a deep consciousness in my heart that what I had asked 
the Lord to do. He had done, and I praised Him. Then He came 
to me: " Will you go uptown to Union Church on Sunday and tes- 
tify definitely? " 

"Yes. Lord, if Thou wilt help me, and give me Thy strength, 
and go with me, I will go." So there was a calm and peace in my 
heart. Union Church, uptown, was a colored church. There was 
not a member in it that believed in the doctrine of holiness: and 
from that church there had been great criticism in regard to my 
professing such a blessing. Sunday morning came. The Love 
Feast was at 6 o'clock a. m. I had been but once before. I got 
ready and went. My heart trembled, and my knees trembled. 
But I went on, and I said, "How, Lord, help me, and I will go." 
I got in and sat down. The church was well filled. A number 
of strange ministers sat in the altar. Every eye was turned on 
me. After the meeting opened the testimony began. The min- 
isters urged everybody to be short, and in many of the testimonies 
th^re were remarks and insinuations thrown out to me. I sat still 
and prayed. Oh! how I did pray. Then they began to get very 
noisy. They shouted and praised. I said to the Lord: "Now, 
Lord, I will speak for Thee if Thou wilt make these people be quiet. 
Lord, make them be quiet. I can't talk when there is a great 
noise, and Thou hast sent me here to speak for Thee, and I want the 



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Autobiography of 



people to hear. Lord, make them be still. ' ' Sometimes there would 
be three or four on the floor speaking at the same time. The 
ministers would urge them on, and say: " The Lord can hear you 
all. Don't wait on one another." But I prayed, "Lord, still 
them, still them." Then there came a pause. Then I got on my 
feet. Then they began to shout again, and they drowned me out. 
So I stood still, and prayed, "Lord, still the people." And He did. 
They calmed down so that when I began, there was not another 
one spoke. I began and quoted several passages of Scripture bear- 
ing on holiness definitely, and on God's promise of this grace to 
those who sought it, and how it was obtained by faith. And they 
listened. The ministers touched one another. I went on talking, 
and by and by I came to a point when it seemed a finger touched 
my tongue, and the power of God came upon me in such a won- 
derful manner that I talked, it seemed to me, about ten minutes. 
The people looked as though they were alarmed. The ministers 
who sat in the altar, and who had looked so critical when 1 came 
in, began to shout "Amen! Lord Almighty, bless that sister!" 
And then the fire seemed to fall on all the people. When I had 
finished. I sat down, feeling that I had delivered the message 
according to the will of the Lord. To His name be all the glory 
for the strength He gave me that day. Amen. Amen. 

One day Sister Scott called and was so happy. She told me 
some white sisters had been at her house, and had prayed and 
sung, and that they were full of the Holy Ghost. They were 
dressed so plain and neat. They belonged to the Free Methodist 
Church, uptown somewhere in New York. And they asked her 
to come to some of their meetings. "Oh! " I said, "why didn't 
you bring them to see me?" She said, "I told them I would 
bring you up to their church sometime." Soon Sunday I went 
with her. It was about two miles from where I lived. We started 
early, and, of course, we walked all the way. We thought it was 
a dreadful thing to ride on the street cars on Sunday. And I 
think still we should not do it whenever we can avoid it. But 
I am not in bondage even in this as I once was. Praise the Lord! 
We got to the church. Mr. Mackey, who was so well known all 
over New York, was then very popular and prominent in that 
church, and was a good friend to the colored people. For years 
he led meetings at the Colored Home in New York. When we 
went into the church he was there, and was so glad to see us. He 
shook hands, and seated us, and was so kind. 



Amanda Smith. 



"My!" I thought, "how nice these people are." For such 
treatment as that in a white church was not common for colored 
persons. Then the church was so very pretty and plain. No 
stained glass, or cushions, no pipe organ and quartette choir. 
Then the sisters were all so plain. So was I. For before I got the 
blessing I dressed Quaker style, because I liked it, and it was a 
matter of economy. Then the preacher that Sunday morning was 
a Mr. James, and he had no gold studs in his shirt, no rings on 
his fingers. His face was placid and bright. And what a sermon 
he preached on Holiness. My soul was fed, and I prayed to the 
Lord to put it in the heart of the minister to ask persons to join 
the church. I felt I must join this church. It was a true church. 
And that kind of preaching I had heard my father talk about that 
they used to hear forty years ago. Well, I prayed. Always before 
when I had prayed, from the time I had received the blessing, 
somehow the Lord had answered me so quick. But this morning 
He didn't seem to answer; and yet, now, I see it was an answer. 
For sometimes when the Lord denies a request, it's as much an 
answer as when He grants it. Though I had been a member of 
the African Methodist Church for years, I was willing that morn- 
ing to join without a letter, on probation. I said, "I can get my 
letter from my church, I know, but they will want to know all 
the reason why, and I don't want to tell. I just want to come into 
this church. These people seem so good! Just the right kind of 
people." Sol prayed on. The sermon was finished. Then they 
had a prayer meeting, and Brother Irvin prayed. Oh! what a 
prayer. I shall ever remember it. He was well known, and a 
man of wonderful power. And I thought, "Will they close with- 
out asking if an} 7 one wants to join! I will get up and go and ask 
them to take me in. But then they will wonder why I have not 
brought my letter, and what will I say? The Lord help me!" 
And He did, but not as I wanted then, but as it is written, "Ye 
shall know if ye follow on to know the Lord." The meeting did 
close, and no one was asked to join. But the friends gathered 
around Sister Scott and me, shook hands, and said they were glad 
to see us. The minister shook hands and asked us to come again. 
They were all so nice. They shouted, and were so free, as the 
Free Methodists are. Brother Irvin came up to me, and gave me 
several tracts on the origin and doctrine of the Free Methodist 
Church. How that it separated itself on account of slavery and 



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Autobiography of 



secret societies. All this was new to me, but suited me exactly. 
Then he gave me a tract on plain dressing. Oh! how I did peruse 
that. Brother E. lived on Dominick street downtown, not a great 
way from where I lived* on Amity street. He had a week night 
class at his house, so he asked us to come. On Tuesday night I 
went. It was warm, and there stood on the table a pitcher of 
water, and every now and then someone of the brethren would 
shout, " Glory to God,"' then take a glass of water. Well, I thought 
it was dreadful. For I thought, "We don't do that. We can 
stay at class until it is out without drinking water." Then I 
thought it was wrong to use a fan. So I suffered from heat rather 
than fan myself when in church. Then they made so much 
unnecessary noise. Just what I didn't like in my own people. 
And I thought it would be different 

But I had made up my mind to join this church. So the next 
week I went again and they were having a prayer meeting. They 
had a great big carman on his knees by a chair in the middle of 
the floor. A brother was on each side of him, one behind him, 
and another in front, and they were shouting and pounding and 
trying to make the man say he believed. " You believe! Say Halle- 
lujah." " Praise the Lord." Then they would say, "Amen!" Then 
they got up, took hold of the man, stood him on his feet and said, 
" Praise the Lord." But he was heavy, and would not say it. 

"Well," I said, "that's just what I find fault with my own 
people for. And these people are good people, but they have their 
failings, just like other people. So I might as well stay where I 
am." Then they told me there were no prejudices among them. 
That colored people were always treated well. And 1 was glad of 
that. So the next week I went again. Brother James led the 
class that night. He had thrown across his shoulders a very 
stylish shawl, such as gentlemen wore in those days, and in it was 
a very pretty steel pin and chain, which shone bright. 

"Well," I said, "I did not think Brother James would wear 
that." 

So a sister came in. When she saw Sister Thompson, whom 
I had got to go with me that night, and myself, she frowned and 
turned her back on us. "Well," I thought, " they say they have 
no prejudice. But she acts just like she had, anyhow. After all, 
perhaps I had better not join." 

Then a dear lady got up and gave such a beautiful testimony, 



Amanda Smith. 



115 



and was so sweet in spirit. How her testimony helped me. But, 
Oh! such a raking as Brother James gave her about her dress. 
She had on a plain fifty cent black straw bonnet, with a piece of 
black ribbon across the middle and a little bow on the side. Not 
a flower, or a bit of color of any kind. She said. 44 Well, Brother 
James, I never thought anything about it. I just got the milliner 
to fix it up to wear to market, and I put it on." 1 never thought 
anything about the bow he had so bitterly denounced. But he 
did not let her off. He picked her testimony all to pieces. How I 
felt for her. And I thought there was much more of self and spirit 
in his manner and in the swell shawl and the steel pin and chain that 
swung about, than there was in the sister he raked so. Next he 
came to the sister who turned her back. She spoke short, and kept 
her back to us. When he came to me, I arose and said: 44 I under- 
stood that you people have no prejudices against colored people." 
4 'Yes," Brother E. says. 

44 Well, will it be right for me to speak just what I think? " 

44 Yes, certainly," said he. 44 We are Free Methodists, so you 
can speak your mind." 

44 Well," I said, 44 1 think you have the spirit of prejudice 
among you just like other people. I do not think I am mistaken, 
for the spirit of this meeting seems very clear to me." 

They had on the mantel three or four little stuffed birds. So 
I said, 44 1 do not think it is right to have those stuffed birds there. 
The Bible says we are not to have pictures of anything in heaven, 
or on earth, or in the water." Well, I knew the quotation cor- 
rectly then. So after I had said this, Brother E. said, 44 Well, 
Sister Smith, God bless you. About there being prejudice, you 
are mistaken; but about the images, you are right." 

So then Brother E. led his wife, and he said to her, 44 You 
don't pray as much as you used to, I know. Often when I used to 
be down town in my office I could tell when you were praying." 
Then he talked to her so before all the people. 

When he got through she got up and went upstairs and 
slammed the door after her. And I said, 44 Well, that means what 
I used to mean when I slammed the door after me." But still he 
did say a lot of things to her that I thought he ought to have said 
to her alone. So I said, 44 Well, these people are just like my own. 
So I guess I will not join." 

When we came out, one of the sisters came out with us. She 



110 



Autobiography of 



was a good sister. She went up to me, took hold of me, and said, 
"Sister Smith, you are right about that prejudice part of it. That 
sister that you referred to has got prejudices, and she was so vexed, 
and she said to-night as she was coming she hoped the colored 
folks would not be there. She does not like it because they 
come." I said, "I knew I was right. But Brother E. does not 
know that, does he? " 

"Oh! no, she does not say it to them; but she has said it to 
me, and I know her." 

So I never went back again. 

Then Rev. Joshua Woodland was pastor of the A. M. E. 
Church in Brooklyn. He was a man cf God, and preached the 
Gospel. So I said, " As I cannot get real food for my soul in my 
own church, I will go to Brooklyn and join Brother Woodland's. 
Of course it will cost me something to go and come, but I will 
walk on this side and cross on the boat, and walk on the other side 
to church; and then a sermon once a week will help me, and I will 
still go to. my class here in New York." So I prayed for light and 
guidance for three weeks. At last I said, one day, "Lord, show 
me by Thy Spirit through Thy Word, what I must do. Thou 
knowest I want to do Thy will only." And I opened my Bible, 
and as I looked, my eyes lighted on these words: " Fear not, stand 
still, and see the salvation of God." And there came a flood of 
light and peace to my heart. And I arose and praised the Lord. 
I never left the church, but I have seen sad results of many who 
have left and gone away. Some have done well, probably, but 
others have made sad failures. What a pity. I can call up a 
number of white people, young men and women, that I used to 
know in New York, and Oh! how they have failed in their lives, 
leaving one church and joining another. Thank the Lord he has 
kept me steady. Amen. 

It is often said to^me, "How nicely you get on, Mrs. Smith; 
everybod} 7 seems to treat you so kindly, and you always seem to 
get on so well." 

"Yes; that is what you think," I said; "but I have much 
more to contend with than you may think." Then they said: 
" Oh, well, but no one would treat you unkindly." Then I said: 
" But if you want to know and understand properly what Amanda 
Smith has to contend with, just turn black and go about as I do, 
and you will come to a different conclusion." And 1 think some 



Amanda Smith. 



11? 



people would understand the quintessence of sanctifying grace if 
they could be black about twenty-four hours. We need to be 
saved deep to make us thorough, all around, out and out, come up 
to the standard Christians, and not bring the standard down to us; 
and as old Brother Cooper in Africa used to say, " Lord, help the 
people to see." Amen. 

One day a lady asked me if I did not think all colored people 
wanted to be white. I told her that I did not think so — I did not. 
I never wished I was white but once, that I could remember, and 
that was years ago. I was at a white Methodist Church in Lan- 
caster; I sat in the gallery The new minister had come. This 
was his first Sunday. I lived at Colonel Henry McGraw's, on 
Lime street, and the church was about two squares from where I 
lived. The colored church where I belonged and attended was 
quite a ways from our house. I always had a big dinner to cook 
on Sunday when Mr McGraw was at home. He had a very dear 
friend, Mr. James Reynolds, whom he always liked to have dine 
with him. I generally liked to go to church on Sunday morning, 
but it was too far for me to go and get back so as to have my din- 
ner in time. I was always very proud of being prompt with my 
dinner, so that often on Sunday I would only get out at night. 
This Sunday I thought I would go and hear the new minister. 
All the young people generally sat upstairs, and a colored person 
was to them an object of game and criticism. I was careful to 
do nothing to provoke this spirit, but I generally got enough of it. 

I don't remember what the text was; but O, how well I 
remember the power with which the preacher spoke, and the 
sweetness of his countenance. As he preached the Lord blessed 
me wonderfully, and I did want to shout "Praise the Lord;" and 
I remember saying "I wish I was white, and I would shout 
'Glory to Jesus.'" They did not look at white people, nor 
remark about their shouting; for they did use to shout! I did 
not shout, but thought, "The willing mind is accepted according 
to what a man hath, and not according to what he hath not." 
And that was the only time in my life I ever wanted to be white. 
But, praise the Lord! I shout now whenever His spirit prompts. 
No, we who are the royal black are very well satisfied with His 
gift to us in this substantial color. I, for one, praise Him for 
what He has given me, although at times it is very inconvenient. 
Foi example: When on my way to California last January, a 
year ago, if I had been white I could have stopped at a hotel, but 



118 



Autobiography of 



being black, though a lone woman, I was obliged to stay all night 
in the waiting room at Austin, Texas, though I arrived at ten p. m.; 
and many times when in Philadelphia, or New York, or Balti- 
more, or most anywhere else except in grand old historic Boston, 
I could not go in and have a cup of tea or a dinner at a hotel or 
restaurant. There may be places in these cities where colored 
people may be accommodated, but generally they are proscribed, 
and that sometimes makes it very inconvenient. I could pay the 
price — yes, that is all right; I know how to behave — yes, that is 
all right; I may have on my very best dress so that I look 
elegant — yes, that is all right; I am known as a Christian lady 
— yes, that is all right; I will occupy but one chair; I will 
touch no person's plate or fork — yes that is all right; but you are 
black! Now, to say that being black did not make it inconven- 
ient for us often, would not be true; but belonging to ro3<al stock, 
as we do, we propose braving this inconvenience for the present, 
and pass on into the great big future where all these little things 
will be lost because of their absolute smallness! May the Lord 
send the future to meet us! Amen. 

At Ocean Grove a lady took me aside and said, " Now, Amanda 
Smith, I want to ask you honestly; I know you cannot be — . " 

" What now?" thought I. 

"I know you cannot be white, but if you could be, would you 
not rather be white than black? " 

"No, no," I said, "as the Lord lives, I would rather be black 
and fully saved than to be white and not saved; I was bad enough, 
black as I am, and I would have been ten times worse if I had 
been white." How she roared laughing. She was all right, but 
I think she just wanted to test me a little bit. Yes, thank God, I 
am satisfied with my color. I am glad I had no choice in it, for 
if I had, I am sure I would not have been satisfied; for when I 
was a young girl I was passionately fond of pea-green, and if 
choice had been left to me I would have chosen to be green, and I 
am sure God's color is the best and most substantial. It's the 
blood that makes whiteness. Hallelujah! 

"The blood applied, 
I'm justified, 

I'm saved without, within, 
The blood of Jesus cleanseth me 
From every trace of sin." 



Amanda Smith. 



119 



Chorus — " There is power in Jesus' blood, 
There is power in Jesus' blood, 
There is power in Jesus' blood 
To wash me white as snow." 

"Many years my longing heart 
Had sighed, had longed to know 
The virtue of the Saviour's blood, 
That washes white as snow."' 

One day in Xew York I went into the Tuesday Palmer's meet- 
ing. A lady came in, and there was a very comfortable seat by 
me, and after looking about for some other place she finally 
decided to take the one by me; but I saw she was uncomfortable. 
She fanned and fidgeted and fussed and aired herself till I wished 
in my heart she had gone somewhere else. Before the meeting 
closed I arose and spoke: the Lord helped me and blessed the 
people. At the close of the meeting this lady turned to me so full 
of pleasant smiles, and said. " Oh. I did nut know I was sitting by 
Amanda Smith; I feel myself highly honored." I looked at her 
and pitied her, but felt sick! I said in my heart, "From all 
hollowness and sham, Good Lord deliver us!" 

One day at Oakington Camp Meeting there was a lady I heard 
giving her testimony. She said, " I have come over five hundred 
miles to this meeting to get the blessing of entire sanctification. 
I believe it is my privilege to enjoy this experience, but I have 
not got it. I have read all the works on the subject and sought 
earnestly day and night, and yet I have not got the light."' 

O, how I wanted to tell her it was not in the books. [ arose 
to speak and tell her, as I thought the Lord wanted me to, but I 
was told to sit down, there were others who wanted to speak. I 
was a little sorry, for I was quite sure my desire to speak was the 
Lord's prompting: but I must needs learn obedience of the powers 
that be. Praise the Lord for the grace that enabled me to do 
so. Hallelujah! I also saw some things that were not what I 
called consistent with the profession of the sanctified life. It was 
unexpected, and I was young in the experience and was struck 
a little; but God saved me from backsliding from this principle, 
as many do when they meet with things in life that do not har- 
monize with the profession of holiness. There is much of the 
human nature for us to battle with, even after we are wholly 



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Autobiography of Amanda Smith. 



sanctified, so that we shall ever need the beautiful grace of 
patience. 44 For ye have need of patience, that, after ye have 
done the will of God, ye might receive the promise.' ' He- 
brews, 10: 36. 



CHAPTER X. 



"THY WILL BE DONE," AND HOW THE SPIRIT TAUGHT ME ITS 
MEANING, ALSO THAT OF SOME OTHER PASSAGES OP SCRIP 
TURE — MY* DAUGHTER MAZIE'S CONVERSION. 

It all came to me so clearly after I had received the baptism 
of the Holy Ghost. I saw that I had prayed from my earliest 
childhood this prayer, but had never understood it; but, Oh! when 
the Spirit revealed it to me I was so astonished that I had not seen 
it before. "Our Father," I said, "God is my Father. He has 
made me, and I am His child." How that word "Father" filled 
me with awe. 

' * Who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name. ' ' At these words 
a holy reverence passed through my whole being. 

"Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in 
Heaven." Like the angels do it in Heaven. Then I thought, 
" How do the angels do God's will. Do they hesitate? Do they 
question? Do they shrink?" And I said " No. " Swift, prompt, 
loyal obedience by angels, and I asked God that I may do His will 
on earth like angels do it in heaven. When I saw this, I covered 
my face and wept, and laughed; so simple, and so great! 

" Thy will be done." Oh! that word, and to say it from the 
heart. When you stand by your dear ones dying, with not tw r o 
dollars for funeral expenses, with a husband and father away, and 
when he might have come, yet did not, with no one to go to, when 
the very heavens seemed brass, and the earth iron, and you and 
your own body exhausted from hard work and w r atching day and 
night, and with but little food to sustain the body, then to say, " Thy 
will be done," from the heart, is more than all burnt offerings and 
sacrifice; and this prayer prayed from the heart, is what is meant 
by being entirely and wholly sanctified. I did not understand this 
when I first learned it, but the time came a few months after. 

(121) 



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Autobiography of 



The Lord took from me my dear little Will. He was the 
brightest and most promising of all the five children I had had, 
and when he was but three days old, I got on my knees by my 
bedside and consecrated him to God. I had not done so with the 
others, and I thought it was why the Lord took them away, but I 
did not know about consecrating children to God, only in baptism. 
Now I saw afterward there was selfishness in it, though I was 
really sincere. I did this, thinking the Lord would not take him. 
Then I promised I would train him prayerfully, and he should be 
a preacher of the Gospel. I said: "Lord, I give him to Thee, and 
I hold myself just as Thy servant, to raise him for Thee; he is not 
mine, I give him wholly to Thee, and now help me to raise him. 
When he is five years old I will have him reading, and I will work 
day and night to give him an education." 

When I got through with my prayer I arose and lay down 
again. He grew and thrived beautifully till he was five months 
old. Oh, how bright he was. He had had several little sick turns, 
but I never once thought he would die, because I had given him 
to the Lord so fully, and now the Lord will let me have him. One 
morning I had cleaned up my room, and had my tubs all ready to 
go to washing, for this I always did, so that my house was in 
order if any one should come in. The next was to give my baby 
his bath and make him comfortable. Just after I had done this 
and laid him down on the sofa, and emptied his bath, he seemed 
perfectly well and was crowing and so bright. His sister, Mazie, 
was getting ready for school, and was calling, saying: "Be good, 
Will, till I come back." All at once she called out to me: "Oh 
Ma, look at Will," and he was stiff in a fit, and there was froth on 
his mouth and he was black in the face. My kettle of wash water 
was on, and in a moment I had him another bath ready. I stripped 
him. There was no one to call. I never lost my presence of mind a 
moment. I put him in his bath. I did not forget to put in the 
water a handful of salt and a little mustard. I don't know how I 
did it, God kept me so still in my soul. He soon came out of his 
spasm when I put him in the warm water. The dear little fellow, 
the first thing he did was to look up and say, " Mama," and pat 
me on the cheek with his little hand. He seemed all right and 1 
dressed him and laid him down and went to my washing. He 
slept and took his food as usual till several days had passed, then 
he seemed poorly and fretful, and I took him to a doctor; he pre- 



Amanda Smith. 



123 



scribed for him and said he would be all right in a few days; but 
another spasm. Then for five. long weeks I worked and watched 
and never took off my clothes, only to change them. I did every- 
thing I could: had no one to help: had to do my washing between 
times as I could. It never entered my thoughts that he would die. 
One Wednesday morning, I had been watching all night; he was 
restless, but I had got him quiet about five o'clock in the morning. 
I stole away from him to finish hanging up my last clothes and 
finish my work. About six o'clock he awoke and cried, and I 
would call to him and he would wait to see if I was coming and 
then he would cry again. I would say: " Hold on. Will, I am 
coming." Oh, how I worked! I had to work quick. When I got 
through I went to take him up. I found he had kicked off one 
of his little socks. I picked it up cheerfully and said. " Oh, Will, 
you have lost one of your boots, old man." When I went to put it 
on I saw his little foot was swollen on top. I knew what that 
meant: an arrow went through my heart, and I could hardly lift 
him from the bed. I tried to say. " Thy will be done." but I could 
not. I thought. " After all. the Lord is going to take him, and I 
can't say 1 Thy will be done.' " 

I had heard of a wonderful doctor for children, a lady. I 
thought I would try this new doctor I took him in my arms, and 
when I got to the doctor's I could not speak a word. She looked 
at him and said to me, "You must not feel so bad, his eyes are 
bright, and I think he will be bettor in a few days; " but I knew 
the sign of his feet was no mistake- I paid her one dollar, and a 
dollar and a half for the prescription, and had but fifty cents left; 
all I had in the world. I went home and did as I was told, but I 
could not say "Thy will be done." Oh! the agony of my soul. 
The Lord sent a dear friend in Minte Corsey. Oh, how glad I was 
she came. She lived at service and could only stay a day or two, 
but this was a great help to me. Friday morning came, still I 
could not say. " Thy will be done." I wanted to say it, and then 
I resolved that I would neither eat nor drink until I could, from 
my heart, say, 44 The will of the Lord be done." It took me from 
Thursday till Friday afternoon about three p. M. I got the victory. 
While I was alone pleading with God for power to say, " Thy will 
be done," all at once my heart seemed to sink into a deep quiet, 
and I said, "Lord, Thou hast helped me, and I can say, 4 Thy 
will be done.' " Oh, how sweet it was; it seemed to me I could 



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taste it; it was sweet as honey; and a voice seemed to reason, 
"Now, Amanda, you can have your choice, if you say the life of 
your child you may have it as easy as turning your hand," and I 
said, 'Lord, Thy will is so sweet, I only want Thy will, " and it 
came again, "Whatever you desire it is only to say," and I 
said again, "Oh, Lord, Thy will is so sweet, I only say Thy will 
be done." Then the joy sprang up in my heart. I was filled with 
joy, and I went out of that room saying, "Victory, victory, thanks 
be to God, He giveth victory, Hallelujah' " 

This was Friday afternoon about four o'clock. About two 
o'clock the next morning little Will fell asleep in Jesus, in my 
arms. I washed the little body and laid it out myself; -laid him 
on the little stand. No tears; God seemed to dry them up with 
joy! O, the greatness of His peace that passeth understanding! 

Saturday morning 1 don't know how I got my clothes home, 
but I did. 1 got a young man to go for my husband, who was at 
New Utrecht, not far from Brooklyn, N. Y. I had but two dollars, 
that had come in from my washing, and I wondered what I would 
do, but my husband would be home, and I thought I could leave 
that. Just then a flood of sadness seemed to fill my heart. I could 
not understand it. I was sick and weak, and I said it is because I 
have lost so much rest. I sent my little girl to tell some friends to 
come in, and they sent word it was Saturday and they were all 
busy, so no one came. I lay down a few moments, then I 'broive 
into a flood of tears. " Lord, help me!" I said. 

About ten o'clock the young man came back, whom I sent to 
see my husband. He sent word he was sick himself, and could 
not come, and had no money. I felt I must sink. I said, " O, 
Lord, help me!" I was so weak I had to lie down three times 
before I could get properly dressed, as I must go out m the street. 
I thought I would go and see a lady with whom I used to live, 
away uptown, Fortieth street and Madison avenue. I thought if 
they could help me get my baby buried, I would ciean house to 
pay them again. While I was getting ready to go, my dear friend, 
Sister Nancy Thompson, who lived in Clinton court, near Eighth 
Street, sent a messenger to say I must come to her house at once. 

"O," I said, "I can't, 1 must go uptown," but the child 
would not go without me. 

She said, " Auntie Thompson says I must not come without 
you," and I went with the child. I thought after I had seen her, 




Mazie D. Smith. 



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125 



then I would go on uptown. When I saw this dear friend, Sister 
Thompson, she said, " Smith, I hear your baby is dead." I said, 
" Yes. " 

She said. " If twenty dollars will help you, I can let you have 
it." And I saw God, and wept! 

"Sometimes, 'mid scenes of deepest gloom, 
Sometimes where Eden's bowers bloom, 
By waters still, o'er troubled sea, 
Still 'tis God's hand that leadeth me." Amen. 

Dear Sister Xancy Thompson has gone to Heaven out of great 
tribulation, last January. God was so good to bring me back from 
Africa to see her and pray and praise with her on earth before he 
took her to himself. 

"There the wicked cease from trouble; 
There the weary are at rest." Amen. 

I went home and sent off to make arrangements for the funeral 
on Sunday. The undertaker was kind. I told him just my situa- 
tion. I said if you will take fifteen dollars I will pay you the 
other fifteen in a week. He said he had a bill to pay next Thurs- 
day and if I would let him have it by then, he would do what he 
could. I told him I thought I could do it. O, how the Lord did 
help me. He was so reasonable. God. I know, was in it all. On 
Sunday, at one o'clock, the funeral. I waited for my husband till 
after three, then they said if we did not go the gates would be 
closed and I would have to come back with the body. O. I was 
so alarmed. I did not know this. So the undertaker himself 
said. "I think I had better go myself." So he got on beside the 
driver, and they drove very fast and we got there just as they were 
closing the gates, and but for the undertaker's being with us we 
would have had to bring back the lifeless little body. I thought 
my husband would meet me at the cemetery, as it was but a short 
distance from where he lived. I hoped he would be able to come 
that far; but no. he was not there. O. I could not describe the 
feelings of that hour. God held me Himself. I thanked the kind 
undertaker, and we got home about half past six o'clock. 

It was the Quarterly Meeting Sunday at the A. M. E. Church 
on Sullivan street. I knew I had many friends there. Brother 
George Smith was always a good friend. He was the Chairman 



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Autobiography of 



of the Board of Trustees. I went to him, and as I was an honora- 
ble member of the church, and had always done my duty as far as 
I was able, financially and otherwise, I told him just my situation, 
and asked him if he would be kind enough to state it and ask the 
people for a collection of fifteen dollars, that I mfght pay the 
undertaker. He did so, and there was a cheerful response and 
about twenty dollars was given, but as I had said fifteen, I got 
that and no more. I was thankful for that. I went on Tuesday 
and paid the bill, and got the receipt. O, what a burden was 
lifted from my heart. The undertaker, too, was glad, and thanked 
me and said, "Mrs. Smith, you have done well." 

All that fall and winter was deep trial, and O, what lessons 
He taught me of Himself. Praise His name. The summer came 
and I went to Long Branch to work. I thought it would do me 
good, as I was very much run down. Still deeper trials came, and 
various. I was at Congress Hall, Mr. Laird's. He and his wife 
were very nice. The housekeeper that had charge of the hiring 
of most of the women help was from Philadelphia. She was a 
Miss Jordan. She had power to discharge any that did not suit 
her. She would give them an order to the office and they were 
paid off and discharged — chambermaids, scrubbers and laundry 
women. I went as private laundress for the family of four, and if 
I chose to assist when there was a rush, all right. The wages were 
fair, and I could take my little girl, and I went in the laundn\ 
There were many professing Christians, but one, a quiet and 
elderly person, who was living on good works of her own, and 
looking and stumbling at the inconsistent* of others who professed 
to be Christians. The head laundress, whom I had known in 
Philadelphia for years, was a good church member, and I thought 
a good Christian, but I found things were different. I would do 
all my work and would always help with the sheets and pillow- 
cases or towels or table cloths, whatever was the need, but always 
got through so as to go to church on Sunday. I found, after the 
first two Sundays, it was giving offense, and there was much crit- 
icism and talk about some people who had so much religion they 
could go to church and couldn't work on Sunday. They would 
say, "I came down here to work; I go to church at home." 

I said nothing, but felt sad. Every day at twelve o'clock I 
would run up in my room just over the laundry and pray« I never 
was over five minutes, so as not to be missed. Remarks began to 



Amanda Smith. 



12? 



be made about this: "I can't get time to sleep. Some people 
can stop and go to sleep. I came here to work." I said nothing. 
One day just as I got on my knees, some one of them came up and 
opened the door, and seeing me on my knees, slammed the door 
and went down laughing. "Some people get on their knees to 
sleep, pretending to be praying." Then the laughter. 

I came down but said nothing, not a word. So Miss J., the 
housekeeper, was informed. She was always very nice to me, 
but this time she came storming in the laundry and said, "Mrs. 
Smith, you will have to help with the sheets and table-cloths. " 

" All right, " I said, and when I got through I would. I would 
get up at four o'clock in the morning: by seven I would hav< 
twenty or thirty sheets out on the line. I did not talk. By and by 
some one would call out, "Miss J. says no one out of the laundry 
will go to church on Sunday: she is not going to have it. What 
will you do, Mrs. Smith?'' 

I said, "Well, Sunday is not here, yet; we will see when it comes. 5 

Then I saw several of them took in washing to make extra 
money — white pants, coats and vests. I would do all my work, 
then they would ask me to help. I did help to iron several times, 
till eleven o'clock one Saturday night, then I quit. I felt it was 
not right, and saw why they really had to work on Sunday — not 
that Mr. Laird required it — and when I saw this I resolved by 
the grace of God I would not be a party to their maneuvers. Sun- 
day came. Every eye was on me to see what I was going to do. 
I didn't say anything: I went, on as usual getting ready, and went 
upstairs. I watched my chance and found Miss J. in another part 
of the house, out from the laundry, and I went to her. I had 
prayed that the Lord would help me to speak to her and make her 
willing to hear, for as a general thing she didn't stop to hear what 
you said when she had made up her mind you must do something. 
So I met her in the hall of the big house and I went up to her and 
said, " Miss Jordan, I want to go to church this morning. The 
work is all done excepting what the women want to do for them 
selves, and I will have nothing to do with it," and she said, " Quite 
right, Mrs. Smith, you go on: don't say anything about it." 

I went down, got ready, dressed my little girl, said nothing to 
anybody at all, — didn't say what I had said to Miss Jordan, didn't 
say what Miss Jordan said to me. — and went to church; but O, 
the storm of remarks and criticisms. 



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Autobiography of 



As I sat in church I thought to myself, "'I don't like these 
surroundings, I don't like these spirits; I don't mean to get into a 
controversy or quarrel, and I think I will just go on Monday morn- 
ing to Mrs. Laird and tell her that I will go home," and I sat 
looking to the Lord about it. This was before the service began. 
By and by the services began. The Rev. Dr. Stratton was the 
pastor, and announced the first hymn, which was, 

"Give to the winds thy fears — " 
I shall never forget it — 

" Give to the winds thy fears, 
Hope and be undismavncl: 
God knows thy sorrows, counts thy tears, 

• God shall lift up thy head." 

I praised him, and said, "Lord, if you will help me, I will 
stick." 

One day I was very much tried again, and was really depressed 
in spirit. I tried to be kind to everybody, and as accommodating 
as I could. I had not had a word with anybody, didn't want to, 
and didn't mean to. though they had tried in various ways to 
draw me into little spats, but the Lord saved me and gave me 
grace. One day I was feeling a good deal depressed and cast down, 
because I could not understand why there should be so much 
unpleasantness; there was no necessity for it, as I could see. I 
went up and knelt down to pray, feeling that I must leave, yet I 
needed the means; I needed the money. While I was praying and 
asking the Lord to help me and show me what to do, it seemed as 
though an angel stood by me. His wings were plumed, and the 
ends seemed to be tipped with fire. It was a beautiful sight, a 
beautiful vision, and seemed very clear to my mind; and I said, 
"Lord, what does this mean?" and these words came to me: 
"The wings of Hope and arms of Faith shall bear you conqueror 
through." I thanked the Lord and rose from my knees and went 
down to my work. I said nothing to anyone. I went to Mrs. 
Lair:', and said to her, " Mrs. Laird, I think I will go home; I don't 
like the unpleasantness; I think a good deal of it unnecessary; I 
have not been accustomed to having words or quarreling, and it 
makes me feel very bad: I think I had better go home." 

She said, " You do the clothes very nicely, and Mr. Laird and 



Amanda Smith. 



129 



I like you very much — like your work. ' And I said, " I don't want 
f o have any words with Miss Jordan." She says, "Never mind 
Miss Jordan. You need not mind anything Mary Jordan says to 
you; you come to me. You just go right on with your work, and 
if you are disturbed, come to me." 

I thanked her and went back to my work. I said nothing to 
anyone. I stayed until the whole house was closed for the season. 

So the Lord brought me off more than conquerer. That's 
just like Him. Blessed be His name! 

"For this is the will of God, even your sanctification." As I 
thought it over, I reasoned like this; "If my father, when he 
died, had left me heir to a certain amount, or estate, why, I should 
have claimed it. And if there were other heirs, and they had 
tried to get it from me, I would have contended for my rights out 
of the will. And as it was in my father's will, the law would have 
justified me in so doing." As I thought it all over, I remembered 
reading in the papers a suit in the Orphans' Court at Brooklyn just 
at that time. So it all seemed plain to me. When Satan would 
suggest, "You cannot expect such a blessing," I stood on these 
words, "But it is the will of God. He is my Father. And He 
said in His inspired word, through His Apostle Paul, it is the will 
of God. And I am one of His legitimate children and a rightful 
heir, and I propose to have my rights out of the will, if all the 
rest of the heirs get offended." When I anchored there, somehow 
I seemed to get help. No matter how the Tempter would come, 
I stuck to the word, and would say, "But it is the will of God." 
And it seemed every time I would say it, it was like a girdle to 
my faith. Oh! how Satan hates to have you believe God. How 
he tries to wrest His word from your grasp. But when we hold 
on by faith, even though we tremble, how we honor God, and how 
we triumph at last. Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Amen! Fear not, 
my trembling friend, whoever you are. Believe only, and thou 
shalt see the glory of God, and not only see, but feel His power." 

It was in the winter of 1869, in Xew York. We were holding 
revival services at Bethel Church, Sullivan street, Rev. Henry 
Davis, pastor. There were several young people in the Sabbath 
School who were converted. Mazie was, I believe, soundly con- 
verted. She gave evidences in her spirit and life for a time, 
though they were hard days for us then. She went to school, and 
had to work hard at home as well, which did not hurt her. She 



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Autobiography of 



always could sleep well; so many nights when I would be washing 
or standing ironing all night, she, poor child, could sleep. Satur- 
day generally was a hard day; she had to carry the clothes home; 
we could not afford to ride, so she had to walk, often long dis- 
tances. I tried to help her in her religious life all I could. We 
always had prayers night and morning. We didn't read the Bible 
at night, but always in the morning, we read verse about; th$n 
we would sing a verse of a hymn; she was a fine alto singer; then 
I would pray. The third or fourth morning after she had been 
converted, I said to her; 44 Now, Mazie, the Lord has converted 
you, and you are very nappy; and now if you want to be a real, 
growing and strong Christian, you must learn to pray." 

44 Well," she said, 44 Ma, I do say my prayers; but I don't 
know how to pray." 

"Well," I said, 41 if you ask the Lord He will teach you how 
to pray; so the sooner you b< j gin the sooner you will get over the 
embarrassment, and the Lord will bl^ss you. Now, there are only 
two of us, and always when we kneel to pray I will expect you to 
pray first, and I will follow. Then on Saturday night, when we 
have our little prayer meeting, no matter who is here, as soon as 
we kneel to pray, you pray first." She gave a little sigh; and then 
we knelt down, and she sighed again. I knew it was hard for her 
to begin, but I waited, and then another sigh; then in her childish 
way she begun to thank the Lord for what He had done for her, 
and ask Him to teach her to pray; a very simple little prayer, but, 
Oh, so earnest. How happy she was. I knew she would be, if 
she would be prayerful and obedient. The heavy cross was taken 
up. When Saturday night came, a number of people, perhaps 
six or seven, came in to have a little prayer meeting. The Lord 
had made this clear to me, that I was to have a prayer meeting at 
my room for those who wished to draw nearer to the Lord. I 
never expected to do anything more than this. But after He had 
sanctified my heart it was beginning at Jerusalem; so at Jerusalem 
I did begin. And though the little prayer meeting was of short 
duration, yet God put His seal on it, and souls were blessed and 
saved. To God be the glory. Amen! Amen! 

My object in having Mazie pray first at this meeting, was, I 
thought after she had carried clothes all day, and done other work 
as well, that the child was very tired and sleepy, and she would 
likely fall asleep on her knees while others would be praying; and 



Amanda Smith. 



131 



I knew the dear Lord would not blame her for being weary and 
sleepy. Of ^ourse, I never told her why I did it, so there was no 
chance of her taking advantage of it. But, praise the Lord, He 
blessed her and strengthened her. She seemed to get on nicely; 
for ghe loved the Sabbath School, and was a bright, active scholar, 
both in New York, and Philadelphia, where she joined at Allen 
Chapel, Rev, Mr. Whitney, pastor. As she had stood so well I 
thought there would be no danger of her being influenced at a 
Catholic school. And then they told me she could have her Bible 
and Hymn Book just the same; and so she did take them with 
her; but they very quietly took them away from her after she was 
there a while, and said they would take care of them for her, and 
gave her such a nice book that she would like to read, about some 
good saint cr sister; and as she was so fond of reading she accepted 
it at once. But she never saw her Bible or Hymn Book again till 
she left. Sending my daughter to this school was a serious mis- 
take, on my part, and one that is made by many parents who are 
ignorant, as I was, of the subtlety of Rome. 



CHAPTER XI. 



MY CALL TO GO OUT — AN ATTACK FROM SATAN — HIS SNARE 
BROKEN — MY PERPLEXITY IN REGARD TO THE TRINITY — 
MANIFESTATION OF JESUS — WAS IT A DREAM? 

It was in November, 1869. God had led me clearly up to this 
time confirming His work through me as I went all about — some- 
times to Brooklyn, then to Harlem, then to Jersey City. All this 
was among my own people, and our own colored churches, though 
I often went beside to old Second Street, Norfolk Street, Willett 
Street, Bedford Street, and to different white Methodist churches, 
to class meetings and prayer meetings; but very little with white 
people, comparatively. The most I did was among my own 
people. There were then but few of our ministers that were favor- 
able to women's preaching or taking any part, I mean in a public 
way; but, thank God, there always were a few men that dared to 
stand by woman's liberty in this, if God called her. Among these, 
I remember, was Henry Davis, Rev. James Holland, Rev. Joshua 
Woodland, Rev. Joseph H. Smith, and Rev. Leonard Patterson, 
and others — but it is different now. We have women deaconesses, 
and leaders, and women in all departments of church work. May 
God in mercy save us from the formalism of the day, and bring us 
back to the old time spirituality and power of the fathers and 
mothers. I often feel as I look over the past and compare it with 
the present, to say: "Lord, save, or we perish. " 

As the Lord led, I followed, and one day as I was praying and 
asking Him to teach me what to do I was impressed that I was to 
leave New York and go out. I did not know where, so it troubled 
me, and I asked the Lord for light, and He gave me these words: 
"Go, and I will go with you." The very words he gave to Moses, 
so many years ago. 

I said, " Lord, I am willing to go, but tell me where to go and 

(132) 



Amanda Smith. 133 

I will obey Thee;" and clear and plain the word came, " Salem! " 
I said, "'Salem! why, Lord, I don't know anybody in Salem. O, 
Lord, do help me, and if this is Thy voice speaking to me, make 
it plain where I shall go." And again it came, "Salem." 

O, Lord, Thou knowest I have never been to Salem, aad only 
have heard there is such a place." 

I remembered that five years before while living in Philadel- 
phia, I was at Bethel Church one morning, and the minister gave 
out that their quarterly meeting was to be held at Salem ihe next 
Sunday. I could not go — I was at service — this was all that I had 
heard about Salem, or knew. I said: " O, Lord, don't let Satan 
deceive me, make it very plain to me, and if this is Thy voice, 
speak again to me, do Lord, make it clear, so as to make me under- 
stand it, and I will obey Thee. Now, Lord, I wait to hear Thee 
speak to me, and tell me where to go," and I heard the word 
coming, I was afraid, it seemed as though the Lord would strike 
me down, and I drew down as though to hide, and the word came 
with power, "Salem," and I said, "Lord, that is enough, I 
will go." 

A few weeks passed. O, how I was tested to the very core in 
every way. My rent was five dollars a month, and I wanted to 
pay two months before I went. I prayed and asked the Lord to 
help me to do this. It was wonderful how He did. I needed a 
pair of shoes. I told the Lord I was willing to go with the shoes 
I had if He wanted me to, but they were broken in the sole, and I 
said: "Lord, Thou knowest if I get my feet wet I will be sick; 
now, if it is Thy will to get the shoes, either give me some work 
to do or put it in the heart of somebody to give me the money to get 
the shoes." And these words came from God to my heart: "If 
thou canst believe; all things are possible to him that believeth." 
And I said, "Lord, the shoes are mine," and I put them on as 
really as ever I put on a pair of shoes in my life! O, how real it 
was. I claimed them by faith. When I got up I walked about 
and felt I really had the very shoes I had asked for on my feet. O, 
how very true that blessed promise — "What things so ever ye 
desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them and ye shall 
have them." I know that truth. Hallelujah! 

Some three days after I said to my friend, Sister Scott, " I 
want to go to Seventh street before I go away, for I have promised 
some friends ever since the Sing Sing Camp Meeting, and I have 



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Autobiography of 



never had the chance to go, and I must go before I leave." The 
day before was Thanksgiving day, and I was over in Jersey City 
helping Brother Lewis He had a meeting in the church on that 
day, so at Seventh street we had a good prayer and testimony 
meeting. Rev. John Parker was pastor. The Lord helped me to 
speak, and I told them the Lord had told me I was to go to Salem, 
and I was going, and I had only come to say, " How do you do, and 
good-bye." At the close of the meeting friends gathered around 
me and said, "Why, Sister Smith, where were you yesterday? 
We looked for you. We had a grand Thanksgiving sermon." 
Another said, "Come to my class." I said, "Thank you, but I 
can't now; you must wait till I come back; I have got orders 
from above to go. " 

As dear old Father Brummell passed out he said, "Good-bye, 
Sister Smith." He shook my hand and put something in it. I 
thanked him and put it in my pocket, and so went home. As I 
sat by the fire and was warming myself — I had read my chapter 
in the Bible, and I was sitting thinking about the meeting — I 
began to get very drowsy and sleepy. "Well, I thought, I must 
get ready to go to bed." Just then the thought came to me, 
"You had better see what that money is Father Brummell gave 
to you." 

"Yes," I thought, " I had forgot that." 

I put my hand in my pocket and took it out; there was one 
two dollar bill and three one dollar bills. I spread it on the table 
and counted it. It was the first time I ever had that much money 
given me in my life, just for nothing, like, and I thought I must 
have made a mistake in counting it, so I counted it again. Yes, 
it was really five dollars. Then I said, "Surely I have made a 
mistake; I am asleep, I guess; " so I rubbed my eyes and walked up 
and down the floor and went back and counted it again. Yes, it 
really was five dollars, and I said, "Well, how is it ?" Just then a 
voice whispered, "You know you prayed about your shoes." 

"0,"I shouted, "Yes, Lord, I remember now. Praise the 
Lord! O, Praise the Lord!'' 

I was so happy I could hardly go to sleep. It was the Lord's 
doing, and it was marvelous. Amen. 

After I had decided to obey the call and was getting ready to 
go, Satan fiercely attacked me as I stood ironing and praying 
earnestly to God. He said: "When Jesus sent out His disciples 



Amanda Smith. 



135 



He sent them out two and two. and now you are going alone; they 
will say you are going to look for a husband, like others." 

Then I thought of several that I knew who had gone out and 
really did get married, after a time; but what business was that 
to the old Accuser, and what had he to do with it? But the 
thought was so foreign from me that I cried out, " Thou knowest 
that is a lie. Thou knowest I only want to do God's will." 

The Tempter harassed me so that I set my iron down and went 
into the room and got on my knees and said, "Lord help me, and 
choose somebody to go with me, if Thou dost want me to have a 
companion. Lord, I would like Sister Scott to go; I know her and 
love her: we could get on so nicely together: but she has a family 
and she cannot go. Then there is Sister Bright, in Philadelphia, and 
others I know. If I were to choose them we might not be con- 
genial spirits, and so would not get on together: so, Lord, if Thou 
wilt direct me to whom Thou wouldst, all will be well: and now. 
Lord, 1 wait before Thee earnestly to hear Thy word to me." 
And these words of Jesus were whispered as distinctly as a 
father's voice to his child, and it said: "Did I not tell you that I 
would go with you' 7 " And in a moment I remembered what He 
had said before — "Go and I will go with you." 

"O. yes, Jesus," I said; "so you did." I had forgotten it; 
and I arose filled with joy and peace. Praise the Lord for victory! 

A few days later I was otf to Salem, New Jersey. I stayed a 
week in Philadelphia, and came near giving up and not going; 
notwithstanding God had clearly answered prayer, and made all 
so plain to me. O, the weakness and frivolity of poor human 
beings. Lord, pity us for Jesus' sake. Amen. 

Oh! how much one has to unlearn in order to learn God's will 
more perfectly. I left New York for Salem, where God first sent 
me, in November, 1869, and returned in June. During these 
months of absence my friend. Sister Scott, had passed through 
deep trials — greatly complicated — could not be explained; only 
those that have had them know about them. I knew a good deal. 
She and I corresponded, and I would pray and advise her to stand 
fast; God would help her. But things got worse, and I think 
Satan got her frightened. Her husband, when in a passion, 
would make threats that frightened her. When she wrote to me 
and told me, I said. "The Devil wants to scare you; I don't 
believe anyone is going to kill you; stand firm." 



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Autobiography of 



She thought I ought to come home and stand by her, but I 
knew the Lord did not want me to meddle in man and wife 
trouble, so it was all right I was away. I said, " Scott, every eye 
is on you to see how you stand, and if sanctifying grace is good 
for anything, this is your time to test it. Don't you leave your 
home." This was the way I wrote, and I think it was not what 
she expected. From that time the spirit of her letters to me 
seemed to be greatly changed. I felt she was not the same in 
spirit. Then, encouraged by her son to leave her home, she did so 
and moved, with the three children, around in Minnetta street. 
While I felt she had changed, I loved her so well that I thought, 
"When I get home and see her and have a talk I can explain and 
clear up everything; she will understand me and will soon be all 
right." So in June I got to be full of hope and expectation, for I 
did not think I could live in New York without the former friend- 
ship and love of sister S. She had moved from Minnetta street to 
Dominick street, and after I had got a little straightened up in 
my room I could hardly wait to see her. I would smile to myself 
and think how glad she would be to see me, and what she would 
say: and it was all so real; but O, imagine my disappointment 
and surprise. When I went she was so cool and formal. O, how 
my heart sank. I told her everything that I knew used to interest 
her. She listened, and I saw she made an effort to be herself, and 
that hurt me so; I knew her so well. I told her why I wrote to 
her as I did, and I thought as she had been through so much for 
so many years she might have stuck to it a little longer, and I 
believed God would have helped her and brought her out con- 
queror. I saw that the Devil had made her believe that I did not 
care for her, and had no sympathy for her. We talked till twelve 
at night; then as we always prayed when we met, I said well, let 
us pray. We knelt; I prayed, but she did not. I went out with a 
heavy heart, and under an awful temptation. 

4 'Oh!" I thought, ' * if Scott has turned against me after all 
these years of helpful friendship, what will I do? " and it was like 
Peter's walk on the water. I had got my e} 7 e off of Jesus, and I 
began to sink, and the more I thought of it the deeper I went. I 
called again and begged her to come and see me. I ran in again, 
and said, " I have been wishing you would come, that we might 
have a season of prayer together," but she made some excuse, 
which I knew was not like my old friend. Howl wept and prayed; 



Amanda Smith. 



137 



I thought it would kill me. but I see now what it meant. God 
was to separate me unto Himself and I must be weaned. O, what 
an ordeal. After a day or two she came in. I was ironing and she 
sat down on the doorstep. "Oh," I said. " come in," but she would 
not and went away without saying a word about prayer, and I 
was convinced that the real spirit of my dear friend of years had 
gone — only the woman was there. O. the sadness of that other 
spirit, how it lingers even to this day. 1 tried to cast my burden 
on the Lord with fasting and weeping and praying, but. O. for 
weeks I walked in darkness and Satan accused me. I looked over 
my mind to see if the advice I had given was the cause, no. I felt 
T was right. Well, to go and keep talking and trying to win my 
friend back to her former friendship — it seemed it was not what 
the Lord wanted me to do. but why had this darkness settled down 
over my spirit. I said. "O Lord, help me! " I did not seem able 
to pray. I seemed to have no spirit in me. Yet I could not fee] any 
clear condemnation, but. O, what a state I was in! I knew I had 
not taken anything back from God of my consecration, but. O, 
what was the matter with me. I could not tell. Other times when 
1 would have these trials my friend would come and we would 
pray together and get deliverance, but now. not a J soul to help me, 
and I could not prevail. There are times when one needs help 
to prevail with God. but I had no help, and the Devil said. " You 
see, if you were sanctified fully, you would be able to pray, but 
you have grieved the Spirit in some way. and this is why God 
don't a n s we r you."' 

O. how real it all seemed, and yet somehow I knew it was not 
so. I was afraid to tell anyone. Satan said. " If you tell anyone 
they will think you have backslidden, you never heard of anyone 
who was sanctified having darkness like that," 

"No, I never did." So I went to meetings, and talked what I 
knew of the bright side for fear the people would think I had 
backslidden sure enough. I think sanctified people ought to tell 
the other side, for it is no sign that you are backsliding when there 
comes a shadow over your Spirit, even after you are wholly sancti- 
fied: but I was ignorant and did not know that these questions 
were from the Devil. O, how he can transform himself into an 
angel of light to deceive. 

My little girl had gone to live in Philadelphia with a very nice 
family, and I was very busy finishing a dress so as to s^nd it to 



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Autobiography of 



her. I had just got a letter from her. and she was getting along 
very nicely. As I sat with a sad heart and at times wishing I 
really could condemn myself so as to get access to God, for I felt if 
I could feel any condemnation, then surely I could pray: all at 
once the thought came, go down to Dominick street to Mrs. Clark's 
holiness meeting. Sister Clark used to have this meeting every 
Thursday afternoon at her house. I said, " O, I am too busy, I 
want to get this dress done," but a deep conviction took hold of me 
and I felt I must go, so I got up and went. I began to feel a little 
lighter. I said, " I guess the Lord is going to bless me to-day." 

I went into the meeting, there were a good many present, and 
about five minutes after I got into the room this awful avalanche 
of darkness came over me again, and I began to cry. O, how bit- 
terly I cried: I was heartbroken. The hymn was given out. I 
was sitting by Sister Clark. Just before the last verse was sung, 
the Devil said, " Xow they are going to ask you to pray, and you 
know you can't: " and I said. " No. I can't pray." 

Sure enough, when they knelt down. Sister Clark said to me, 
44 Sister Smith, pray." I had always been able to pray before and 
after I had been sanctified, but I tried, and broke down. Some 
one said. " Amen, Lord, bless Sister Smith." 

They thought I had got blest and was very happy. So I tried 
the second time to pray, but could not. Then the third time, 
failed again. O, I could not pray. 

"Sister Clark," I said, "you pray. I can't," and she did pray, as 
she could in those days, for she used to be mighty in prayer. Then 
we arose. I sat and sobbed like a baby, listened to the testimonies 
and hoped for just a ray of light to come to my mind, so dark. 
After several had spoken, I arose and made a confession of all I 
knew. T had gone to Philadelphia to see my sister who was very 
sick and not expected to live. I left on Saturday night by the 
twelve o'clock train and got in five o'clock Sunday morning: left 
again on Sunday night, at twelve, got to Jersey City at five A. M. , 
so the Devil had told me, that was one of the causes of the dark- 
ness. Then I had gone out without taking my tracts several times, 
so he said that was another reason. Then I used to get up and pray 
once or twice in the night, but I had not done that for several 
nights, so he accused me of that. At another time, after I had 
worked hard all day, I was tired, and after I had read my Bible 
lesson I knelt down to pray and fell asleep on my knees, and did 



A max da Smith. 



139 



not wake till about two o'clock in the morning; so he accused me 
of that, but when I asked the Lord to forgive me for all of these, 
it seemed as if a voice would say. " Xo. th&t is not it.*' and I said 
44 Lord, what is it?" So I told these sisters all this. "And 
now.*' said I, " I want to know if any of you have had such an 
experience, for I don't know what is the matter: do help me if you 
can. Do sanctified people ever have such an experience?" 

"Xo." they said: they shook their heads and looked very 
solemn, and I sat down, and each sister that spoke in turn, joined 
with my accuser and condemned me. They said that no doubt 
that these things were very wrong and was the cause of this dark- 
ness, and strange to say while I wanted it so. yet something seemed 
to say, " That is not so." and I felt like saying to each one of them 
as they spoke. "It is not so." 

There was one lady who sat over by the window. I shall never 
forget her, though I can't remember her name. She was formerly 
from England, and was a friend of Sister Clark's. She had very 
black hair: she wore it very plain, two little puffs each side; I 
used to know her so well at Mrs. Palmer's meeting and at Round 
Lake Camp Meeting. God bless her! She was the last to speak 
that day, they wnv all through but her, and all had condemned 
me. but when she rose to speak she looked at me and said so 
sweetly these words — I shall never forget it, she said: " The Lord 
has a controversy with Amanda Smith, and it must be settled 
between her and Him alone." And a flash of light w r ent through 
my mind, and I said. " Thank you. I see it." God showed me that 
instant I was leaning on my friend. Sister S. O. how I was wrapped 
up in her. but the snare was broken. I went out, my captivity 
was turned, and I praised the Lord. When I got home I got on 
my knees and thanked God for the light to show me where I was. 
and then with tears I begged the Lord to cut me loose from Sister 
Scott. I said. "Lord.it almost kills me, but O, deliver me, cut 
me loose, if you have to kill me. cut me loose." 

O. what a dying it was! It seemed my heart was bound around 
with cords and to let go would take my life, but I cried, " O, Lord, 
cut me loose," and it was as though someone snapped with a knife 
the cords around my heart, and I breathed freely, and said, 
" Thank God I have got the victory." I arose and praised the 
Lord, and walked up and down! 

I was just going to sit down to my sewing when I thought. " I 



140 



Autobiography of 



must go out and get a postage stamp and write to my daughter 
to-night, so that she can get it in the morning." Out I started to 
the drug store on the corner of Fourth street and Sixth avenue. 
Just as I turned out of Amity street in Sixth avenue, I glanced 
over the way on Cornelia street, and saw a person who looked just 
like my friend Sister S. She seemed to look at me, and I nodded 
my head, and was just going to call to her, when she quickly 
turned her head, and didn't seem to see me at all. I thought, " O, 
has Scott gotten to where she will not even speak to me 9 " A 
pang went through my heart, and Satan in a moment said dis- 
tinctly, " You have got no joy now." 

" No," I said, "not a bit." 

" You are not happy, either." 

"No, it's all gone." Then in a tantalizing manner he said, 
"Where is all your sanctification and holiness that you have been 
talking about ?" And then for the first time I clearly realized 
that it was Satan himself that was accusing me, and I said, 
" Ah! Ah! Mr. Satan, it is you, is it? Well, now look here, happi- 
ness or no happiness, joy or no joy, sanctification or no sanctifica- 
tion, I belong to Jesus! " and I began to sing this hymn: — 

" The blood of Christ it cleanseth me, 
It cleanseth me, it cleanseth me, 
The blood of Christ it cleanseth me 
Just now, while I believe." 

I did not sing loud. Some gentlemen and ladies were passing 
me. They looked at me rather strangely. As I sang I felt that 
hateful Satanic influence and power break and leave me, as really 
as I ever took a garment and laid it aside. I seemed to see the 
Devil in the shape of a little black dog, with his tail between his 
legs. He seemed to pass me down Sixth avenue. I don't know 
where he came from. There was nobod\ T with him, but just as 
this power broke I saw this little dog pass. 

The Lord had turned my captivity. I was like one that 
dreamed. My mouth was filled with laughter; I could not stop. 
I went into the drugstore, and the man in the store saw me laugh- 
ing, so he fell in line and got to laughing to; he was stout, and he 
shook. I said, " O, sir, give me a three-cent stamp," and I laughed 
and he laughed, and I went out. He did not say a word to me, 
but, O, how he laughed. So did I. I turned to go home. I said, 



Amanda Smith. 



141 



"I will go down on this side and get me a spool of cotton while I am 
out," and just as I got opposite where I was attacked by Satan 
before, he had crossed over and was on the other side. He said, 
"0, you are very happy." 
"Yes, praise the Lord! " 

"You don't know how your child is coming on in Philadel- 
phia." 

" She is all right; I just had a letter." 

" O, the people tell you that, but you don't know if it is true!" 
" O, but I know if Mazie was not all right she would tell me." 
" Well, you want to go to the camp-meeting, too, and you have 
no money. " 

Then I recognized that old Accuser again, and I said, " Well, 
it is none of your business, I belong to Jesus," and I began to sing 
again, 

" The blood of Christ it cleanseth me, 
Just now, while I believe," 

and away he went, my adversary, and from that day to this I seem 
to be able to know him when he approaches, no matter in what 
shape he comes. 

If you keep close to the blood he soon leaves, and nothing will 
put him on a run so quickly as a song or testimony of the power 
of the blood. 

" Glory to the blood that bought me, 
Glory to its cleansing power. 
Glory to the blood that keeps me, 
Glory, glory, evermore." 

Amen! Amen! 

Some time after the Lord had sanctified my soul, I became 
greatly exercised about the Trinity. I could not seem to under- 
stand just how there could exist three distinct persons, and yet 
one. I thought every day and prayed for light, but didn't seem 
to get help. I read the Bible, but no help came. I wanted to ask 
some one, but I was afraid they would misunderstand me and 
think I was getting fanatical, as that spirit was being developed a 
good deal at that time. Brother Boole was pastor of Seventeenth 
Street Church. As I lived in Xew York I thought if I could hear 
him preach on the baptism of the Holy Ghost, that I would get 
light and help, but the Sunday he was to preach on this very sub- 
ject I could not be there, I was engaged at Janes Street Church 



142 



Autobiography of 



with Reverend Doctor Hamlin, so it went on for weeks after. I 
got through at Janes Street, and went to Williamsburg to help 
Brother Hollis. There the Lord blessed us very greatly. The 
people were all very kind, but I met no one during the ten days 
that I felt I could trust to ask for this explanation. Brother 
Richard R} T an came over on Sunday afternoon, and he gave his 
experience of how he came into the blessing of sanctification. It 
was blest to many souls, and I got a little help on one or two points, 
but to understand the Trinity was still a great puzzle to me. We 
closed up grandly on Sunday night, and on Monday morning I 
went home to New York, 135 Amity street. My two little attic 
rooms were quite dusty, having been shut up for two weeks, so the 
first thing I did was to sweep and dust, and after a little lunch I 
said I will wash my dishes and will kneel down and pray, and I will 
stay on my knees till the Lord makes this thing clear. I had the 
dish-cloth in my hand, and as I walked toward the window a voice 
seemed to speak to me and say, 1 1 Every blessing you get from 
God is by faith." I said, "Yes, — and if by faith, why not 
now?" 

I turned around and knelt down by an old trunk that stood in 
the corner of the room, and I told the Lord that 1 wanted to under- 
stand the Trinity, and that I was afraid of fanaticism, and I 
wanted Him to make it clear to me for His own sake. I don't 
know how long I prayed, but O, how my soul was rilled with light 
under the great baptism that came upon me. I came near falling 
prostrate, but bore up when God revealed Himself so clearly to me, 
and I have understood it ever since. I can't just explain it to 
others, but God made me understand it so I have had no question 
since. Praise the Lord! Then He showed me three other things. 
O, what a revelation. The wonderful fatherhood of God, the 
brotherhood of Jesus, the efficacy and broadness of the atonement. 
It seemed to sweep hard by the gates of hell. I saw how difficult 
it was for a soul to be lost, and how easy it was to be deceived by 
believing in universal salvation without repentance. I was awe- 
stricken and wept. I durst not move. And now, as I think of it, 
I seem to feel the great waves of glory mingled with awe as they 
surged through my soul, so that my whole being seemed to throb 
with love and praise. All the points on these lines have been set- 
tled since that time, and like Elijah, I have been able to goon in 
the strength of this meat for more than forty days. 



Amanda Smith. 



143 



My soul was filled with His love. I seemed to be perfectly 
infatuated with Jesus. I said, V O, I must see Him with my own 
eyes; " but how? I said, " If I could die and go to Him I would, 
but suppose I should live twenty years and have to wait that long 
before I could see Him." 

It seemed the thought was more than I could bear, so I began 
to pray this prayer: " O, Lord Jesus, reveal Thyself," and I said 
no other prayers day or night for a week. This one desire had 
eaten me up. I had three Band sisters. We used to meet once a 
week. I was afraid to tell them for fear they might say something 
to deter me, so when any one came to see me, while they were 
talking I would pray in my heart this same prayer, "O, Lord 
Jesus, reveal Thyself. " I mourned as one would mourn for his 
mother. I wanted to see Him who had done so much for me. I 
said, " I must see Him, but how long must I wait ? " A week had 
passed, my praying heart still longing to see Him. Monday morn- 
ing came. I went from place to place to gather my clothes, pray- 
ing at times, then wondering and now weeping, for I longed to see 
my beloved Christ. Twelve o'clock, my clothes were gathered, 
and I was all ready to begin washing on Tuesday morning at six 
o'clock. Monday afternoon my Band met at my house. 

As I had a baby and could not go about very well, the 
three sisters, Sister Scott, Sister Banks and Sister Brown, all came 
to my house; but this day not one of them came but Sister Scott. 
She was a deeply pious woman, full of faith and the Holy Ghost, 
and was greatly crushed in her home life, like myself. We 
stood by each other through many a storm. Praise the Lord! It 
was her turn that afternoon to open the meeting. We generally 
took turns about; one would open by giving out a hymn, reading 
a chapter and then praying. Then we would tell each other our 
joys or sorrows, our victories and defeats, if we had any, and if 
Satan had buffeted us, how we bore up or if we yielded under the 
pressure, etc., and then we would advise each other and pray for 
each other. Sister Scott seemed to know so well how to approach 
the Throne of Grace, so that I always felt she would get hearing 
quicker, so I was glad it was her turn to pray that day, and all the 
time while she was praying the one cry of my soul was, O, Lord 
Jesus, reveal Thyself. ' ' We kneeled with our backs to each other. 
Sister Scott did not know what I had been praying for, and while 
she prayed, all at once the room seemed to be filled with a hal- 



144 



Autobiography of 



lowed presence, and as she went on I felt she had got hold of God; 
it seemed like the rustling of wings, and Sister Scott cried out, 
"O, Lord Jesus, Thou art here." And He was; I saw Him; He 
came in at the door; it was open. O, can I describe Him, the 
lovely, beautiful Jesus! He seemed to stand about six feet high; 
loose flowing purple robe; His hair and beard as white as wool; His 
beautiful beard covered His breast to his waist: His face was 
indescribably lovely! O, it almost takes my breath as I see it all 
over! He came and stood by my side. He spoke not a word, but 
it was all in the expression of His lovely face. He seemed to say, 
"Now look at me; will that satisfy you?" I cried out, "Yes, 
Lord Jesus," and threw out my arms to embrace Him, but He 
vanished out of my sight. O, the glory of that hour I shall never 
forget, and as I think of the amazing condescension of God the 
Father to grant such a petition to so poor a worm as I, it seemed 
it would break my very heart! 

" He saved me from my lost estate, 
His loving kindness, O, how great!" 

And now, like Job, I am willing to wait all the days of my 
appointed time till my change comes; and I shall go to be with 
Him and gaze on Him forever and forever. 

Another time He manifested Himself in this wise: I had 
read somewhere in the Song of Solomon of my beloved being 
among the spices, and it seemed to me His presence was so con- 
sciously near that I felt as though a person was walking by my 
side. My heart was running over with love to Him as He talked 
with me of many things, and at times I would look around to see 
If I really could see Him; but no, I saw no one. One morning as 
I sat by the window thinking of Him and His great love to me, I 
raised my eyes, and as I looked through the Venetian blind I 
seemed to see His lovely face peering through the blinds at me, 
and I cried out, "O, He looketh through the lattice at me; my 
heart is sick of love! " 

" He satisfieth the longing soul, and filleth the hungry soul 
with goodness." 107th Psalm, ninth verse. 

One night after much prayer I went to bed and soon fell into 
a doze of sleep. There seemed to be laid on my breast a beautiful 
white marble cross. It was cold. As the cross had pressed my 
forehead I felt the coldness, and the weight of it pressing me. 



Amanda Smith. 



145 



''Oh," 1 said, "how beautiful; " but, my! it was so heavy. In a 
moment I seemed to understand all it meant, and all my will 
seemed to be wrapped around it. I awoke, and it seemed as real 
as life itself. 

As I meditated and asked the Lord to teach me and give me 
strength to bear the cross always, no matter how heavy it mignt 
be, I fell asleep again — and yet it did not seem as though I was 
really asleep; but I found myself in a strange place; it seemed 
like a church, and yet it was not. As I sat waiting, as for people 
to gather, there were seated three very stylishly dressed colored 
ladies and several finely dressed colored gentlemen. They w r ere 
sitting in this large room. I thought they looked at me with a 
scowl of contempt on their faces as they eyed my dress from head 
to foot. Then they began to make remarks. I felt that they 
didn't want me in there; but I bowed to them and tried to be 
pleasant. They hardly noticed me. How cut I felt; and I said, 
"I wish I was out of here." Just then I seemed to hear a noise 
outside the house. There was a veranda that looked eastward, so 
I got up and walked out on the veranda. As I looked up, the 
moon was shining, and I looked just a little westward in the 
direction in which I had heard the seeming noise and I saw com- 
ing — it was like a great beam, though in shape, a perfect arm, as 
the right arm of a man! I called it a mighty arm. I wanted 
these persons to see it, but I did not dare ask them, so I moved 
and tried to get their attention by pulling my dress, thinking to 
attract them. They laughed, but did not come. As the arm got 
over my head — it was in the clouds, but I saw it distinctly. 
From the shoulder to the elbow was covered with down, beautiful, 
white. On this down seemed to lie the head of a beautiful bird, 
like the bill of a swan. It was buried in the doAvn, and though 
the speed of the arm was so powerful, this head lay perfectly 
quiet and peaceful. It passed on eastward and was out of sight. 

As I stood looking and wondering at the sight there seemed to 
spring up four great lions. Oh! how fierce they were! They came 
right towards me, and it seemed the next minute they would be 
upon me, as they leaped over the clouds on the way to destroy me. 
I trembled and cried out: "Help, Lord;" and in an instant it 
seemed two great clouds came together and swallowed them up, 
and I saw them no more. 

Praise the Lord, that was a wonderful lesson to me; for 



146 



Autobiography of Amanda Smith. 



shortly after this I had an experience almost identical. I had 
much to suffer, in and with my own people — for human nature is 
xhe same in black and white folks. They oppose the doctrine of 
personal holiness, so do white people; but God has a remnant 
among the old, and some of the young, both preachers and lay- 
men, that believe and know the truth of this doctrine from the 
Bible standpoint experimentally, which is the top stone of all. 
Hath not God declared it that without holiness no man shall see 
the Lord? My prayer is, Lord, multiply the witnesses to the 
experience in life and power among preachers, bishops and lay- 
men. It is the only hope for Methodism all over the land. May 
the Lord help us, white and colored! Amen. 

But to turn again to my story. As I turned to go into the 
room I heard the most beautiful singing; it seemed miles away, but 
I never heard such singing on earth so beautiful, so smooth, and the 
heavenly sweetness I never can describe. As it neared me I knew 
the tune well, and as it drew still nearer I heard these words: 

44 Arm of the Lord, awake, awake, 

Thine own immortal strength put on, 
With terror clothed Hell's Kingdom shake, 
And tread thy foes with fury down." 

And it passed on eastward, -as the arm had gone. I could 
hear the singing away off, as it died away in the distance. I 
awoke. Oh, what peace and comfort filled my soul! I believe 
God permitted this to encourage my faith. How many ways He 
has to teach us to depend on Him, if we are only willing to learn. 
How sweet His own word, "Learn of me, for I am meek and 
lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest to your souls." Amen. 
Amen. 



CHAPTER XII. 



MT LAST CALL — HOW I OBEYED IT, AND WHAT WAS THE RESULT. 

It was the third Sunday in November, 1890. Sister Scott, my 
band sister, and myself went to the Fleet street A. M. E. Church, 
Brooklyn. It was Communion Sunday. Before I left home I said 
to Sister Scott: "I wish I had not promised to go to Brooklyn." 
She said "Why?" 

" Oh, I feel so dull and stupid." 

We went early, and went into the Sabbath School. At the 
close of the Sabbath School the children sang a very pretty piece. 
I do not remember what it was, but the spirit of the Lord touched 
my heart and I was blessed. My bad feelings had gone for a few 
moments, and I thought, "I guess the Lord wanted to bless me 
here." But when we went upstairs I began to feel the same bur- 
den and pressure as I had before. And I said. "Oh, Lord, help 
me, and teach me what this means." And just at that point the 
Tempter came with this supposition: " Now, if you are wholly 
sanctified, why is it that you have these dull feelings ? " 

I began to examine my work, my life, every day, and I could 
see nothing. Then I said, "Lord, help me to understand what 
Thou meanest. I want to hear Thee speak." 

Brother Gould, then pastor of the Fleet Street Church, took 
his text. I was sitting with my eyes closed in silent prayer to 
God, and after he had been preaching about ten minutes, as I 
opened my eyes, just over his head I seemed to see a beautiful 
star, and as I looked at it, it seemed to form into the shape of a 
large white tulip: and I said, "Lord, is that what you want me 
to see? If so, what else?" And then I leaned back and closed 
my eyes. Just then I saw a large letter " G," and I said: "Lord, 
do you want me to read in Genesis, or in Galatians? Lore), what 
does this mean ? M 

(14?) 



148 Autobiography of 

Just then I saw the letter " O." I said, " Why, that means go." 
And I said "What else?" And a voice distinctly said to me 
" Go preach." 

The voice was so audible that it frightened me for a moment, 
and I said, "Oh, Lord, is that what you wanted me to come here 
for? Why did you not tell me when I was at home, or when I was 
on my knees praying?" But His paths are known in the mighty 
deep, and His ways are past finding out. On Monday morning, 
about four o'clock, I think, I was awakened by the presentation 
of a beautiful, white cross — white as the driven snow — similar 
to that described in the last chapter. It was as cold as marble. 
It was laid just on my forehead and on my breast. It seemed 
very heavy; to press me down. The weight and the coldness of 
it were what woke me; and as I woke I said: "Lord, I know 
what that is. It is a cross." 

I arose and got on my knees, and while I was praying these 
words came to me: "If any man will come after Me let him 
deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me." And I said, 
" Lord, help me and I will." 

I did not know that I was so unwilling. But the Lord had 
showed me when I was at Oakington Camp Meeting in July, 1870. 
There was a gentleman there who lived at Espa, Pa. He made 
me a good offer, to give me a home in his family, as servant, as 
long as I lived, my little girl and myself. He said that his family 
was small; only himself and wife, and one son, a beautiful young 
man, who was with him at the meeting, and who also, with his 
father, urged me to go. He said his house was quite new, newly 
fitted up with all the modern improvements, and that he had a 
very nice colored man and family on the place, who was his farmer, 
and who was a good Christian man, and a local preacher, and that 
they held in his own house a holiness meeting once every week, so 
that I would not be lonesome; and as he had been asking the Lord 
about a person, he felt, and thought, I was the very person that 
would suit them, and he wanted me to break up housekeeping and 
come to live with them right away. I kept a small room in New 
York for myself and little girl. 

He was a grand, good man, and talked so very nice, and it did 
seem at first glance that it was right I should do so, and I almost 
decided to go. But before I did decide, I spread it before the 
Lord, and asked the assistance and direction of His Holy Spirit, 



Amanda Smith. 



and I soon found out that it was not the will of the Lord for me to 
confine myself as a servant in any family, but to go and work in 
His vineyard as the Spirit directed me. This theLord had made 
very plain to me once before. 

I worked out by the day and had a great deal to do, till the 
families I worked for went away out of the country, and the work 
got slack, and I had but one day out of the week, and that was at 
Sister Clark's, on Dominick street. So when my work was stopped, 
my revenue was stopped. I was reduced down to thirteen cents; 
and I did not know what to do. The enemy said to me, "You 
will keep on talking about trusting the Lord, and you will have to 
beg before you are done with it." 

"It is none of your business," I said, "if I do. I belong to 
the Lord, and if He wants me to beg I'll do it." 

And he left me a little while. But after a time he returned, 
and said, " You had better go to service and come home at night." 

And I thought, "I could do that. My little girl goes to 
school, and when she was out she could come to where I was and 
stay till night, and then go home with me." 

While I was thinking about it, my friend, Sister Scott, sent 
for me to go somewhere to work, but she had made a mistake in 
the number where I was to go, and I did not find it. I saw after- 
wards it was all the Lord's doings. I walked up and down for an 
hour. I went to the place with the number she gave me, but no 
such person lived there. On my way back I met a girl looking for 
a chambermaid in the family where she lived. She wanted me to 
go and see the lady at once; but I said, "No, if I do go now the 
lady will want me to decide when I can come." 

"Oh, yes," said she, "for she wants some one right awa} T ." 

"Well, I must ask the Lord first." 

I went home and got down on my knees, and I said: " Oh, 
Lord, I am willing to go to service if Thou sayest so. But, Lord, 
Thou knowest I so love the Sabbath day, and if I igo to service it 
will be taken from me." 

Then these words were given me: " My grace is sufficient for 
you. If you trust Me you shall never be confounded." 

" Now, Lord," I said, " for the evidence that I am not to go to 
service, send some one for me to go to work by the day." 

And a little while afterward a little boy came and said that his 
mother had sent him to see if I could come next day and wash; 



150 



Autobiography op 



and I said, 4 'yes," and I had the evidence that I was not to go to 
service. I had but thirteen cents of money in the world. My 
little girl was at school, and when she came home the first thing 
she would say was, 44 O, Ma, I am so hungry: have you got any 
bread? " So I had done without any dinner, and saved the piece 
of bread I had, so that when my child would ask me for a piece of 
bread I might have it to give her. I thought I couldn't stand it, 
to have her ask for bread and have none to give her; so, though I 
was very hungry, I did without. 

The grocer's name was Mr. Otten. His store was on the corner 
of Mannetta Lane and Sixth avenue. I always dealt with him. I 
never got anything on trust. When I had the money I would get 
what I needed, and pay for it. When I didn't have the money I 
would do without it. So I took the thirteen cents and went to 
Mr. Otten's store, and said to him, "Mr. Otten, I will tell you what 
I want; I want a loaf of bread, I want a quart of potatoes, I want 
three slices of salt pork, and I want a bundle of wood, and this is 
every cent of money I have between me and death." I showed him 
my money before I got the things. He looked at me. 

44 Well," he said, 44 thirteen cents is not money enough to pay 
for what you want. " 

44 1 know it, but that is what I want, and that is all the money 
I have." 

And then he looked at me, and went and got the things and 
gave me back three cents. 

Oh! how I praised the Lord. I hastened home. I made a 
nice little stew for dinner for Mazie and me. I was expecting this 
to last me a week. I didn't intend to eat much myself; I thought 
I could do without, but my child must have enough; and I had a 
faculty of piecing out a little to make it go a good ways. 

Well, the next day I went to where I was to dc the washing. 
It was not far from where I lived. I knocked, and the lady opened 
the door. She was a very rough, coarse woman. I said, 44 Good 
morning, Madame." 

44 Good morning. Are you the woman that's come to wash? " 

44 Yes, Madame." 

44 How much do you charge a day? ' 

44 Well, Madame, I don't know, I believe the general price is 
one dollar and twenty-five cents." 

"Well," she said, 4 Tm not going to pay any such price as that." 



Amanda Smith, 



151 



"Well," I said. "Madame, a dollar, then, I suppose." 

" No, I won't pay a dollar. It is a three weeks' washing, but 
I can get it done cheaper than that." 

"Well," I said, "Madame, seventy-five cents, if it is a three 
weeks' washing it ought to be worth seventy-five cents." 

"Well," she said, "I'm not going to pay that. I can get it 
done for fifty cents." 

So 'she turned and went away, and I said, "Good morning, 
Madame. " 

And just as I was crossing out of Fourth street into Sixth 
avenue, how Satan assailed me. I trembled from head to foot. 
He said, " Now you have been asking the Lord for a day's work, 
and the Lord has given you this work and you have refused it." 

Then I thought, I will go back and tell her I will do it for 
fifty cents. And then something seemed to whisper, "Goon." 
So I went on a little further, and Satan attacked me again, and he 
accused me of not being obedient, and not walking in the way the 
Lord had opened up for me, and I thought, "I will go back and 
beg the woman and tell her I will do it." 

I stopped still, and as I went to turn round a voice said to me, 
"No, no." And I said, " Oh, Lord, do help me. I don't want to 
be disobedient. I want to do Thy will only; " and I cried in the 
street! 

Just as I was going in the rear of my own house, I met a lady 
coming out, and she said, "I have just been in the court looking for 
somebody to come and do a day's ironing. Can you come? " 

"Yes; where is it? " 

"Right up here in McDugal street." 

She kept a boarding-house. She said, " I want you to come 
right away. We are very busy, and we are cleaning house, and I 
must have my ironing done at once." 

So I laid down my things and went. It was about half a block 
from where I lived. I worked hard all day. Oh, what a day it 
was. It was in one of these boarding-houses that are on the 
scrimpiest order. There was a little fire in one end of the range, 
and it was not allowed to get hot enough to cook anything, scarcely 
on top. You would open a hole and set an iron in to get it hot, 
and perhaps you could iron a towel; then some one of the boarders 
would want some breakfast, and you would shut it up to try and 
get it hot enough to cook something, and that was the way it went, 



152 



Autobiography of 



I saw very soon after I got in there why it was she could not 
keep any help. However, I did the best I could; sometimes iron- 
ing a towel, sometimes washing a window, and then ironing a 
sheet or pillow case, then scrubbing a little, and managing in all 
sorts of ways. I endured it for two days; and she paid me my 
money — two dollars. 

After that I never had any more trouble about days' work. I 
had all the work I could do, and more, at one dollar and twenty- 
five cents to two dollars a day, until October, 1870, when I left my 
home at God's command, and began my evangelistic work. I did 
not know then that it meant all that it has been. I thought it 
was only to go to Salem, as the Lord had showed me. Shortly 
after this I was off to Salem. Got as far as Philadelphia, where I 
purposed leaving my little girl with her grandfather, while I went 
on to Salem. But strange to say, notwithstanding all the light, 
and clear, definite leading of the I ord, my heart seemed to fail me. 
I said to myself, 4 'After all, to go on to Salem, a stranger, where I 
don't know a minister, or anybody. No, I will do some work here 
in Philadelphia.'' 

So I got some tracts, went away down in the lower part of 
town, on St. Mary's street, and Sixth, and Lombard, and all in 
that region. I went into saloons and gave tracts; gave tracts to 
people on the corners; spoke a word here and there; some laughed 
and sneered; some took a tract. Then I went to the meetings, 
and sang and prayed and exhorted. I went about among the sick, 
and did all I could. And I said, "After all, the Lord may not 
want me to go to Salem." 

After spending a week in Philadelphia I thought I would go 
home. Friday came, and I thought to myself, "Well, I will go 
home Saturday." But, Oh! there came such an awful horror and 
darkness over me. On Friday night, after I had come home from 
an excellent meeting, I could not sleep, all night. Oh! how I was 
troubled. I did not know what to do, for I had spent all my 
money; father did not have much means, and when Mazie and I 
were at home I generally provided, not only for ourselves, but for 
all the family; so that my means went almost before I knew it; I 
had not much, anj how. But it seemed to me I would die. So I 
told the Lord if He would spare me till morning, though I had 
not any money, I would go and see my sister, and if she could lend 
me a dollar so as to get on to Salem, I would go. 



A max da Smith. 



153 



Saturday morning came. I borrowed a dollar, came home, 
and spent twenty-five cents of it for breakfast; then with what it 
cost me to ride down to get on the boat, in all about fifteen cents, 
I had left about sixty cents. My ticket on the boat was fifty cents; 
I had had some little hymns struck off; we colored people were 
very fond of ballads for singing. 

A little while after I got on the boat, who should come in but 
Brother Holland, who used to be my pastor eight years before, in 
Lancaster, Pa. All this had come to pass in the years after I had 
known him; so that he did not know anything at all about it. He 
was very glad to see me, and asked me where I was going. I told 
him the Lord had sent me to Salem. Then I began to tell him my 
story. How the Lord had led me. How He had called me to His 
work. Dear old man. he listened to me patiently, and when I had 
got through he said: 

"Well, Sister Smith, you know I don't believe in women 
preaching. But still, honey, I have got nothing to say about you. 
You go on. The Lord bless you." 

I was dumbfounded; for I thought he was in the greatest 
sympathy with woman's work, though I had never heard him 
express himself with regard to it. But I was glad of the latter 
part of what he said. 

It was quite a cool day, and the boat got in about two o'clock 
in the afternoon. There were no street cars then, as there are 
now. There was a big omnibus. They didn't let colored people 
ride inside an omnibus in those days. So I took my carpet bag 
and had to sit outside on the top of the omnibus. 

They didn't let colored people off till all the white people were 
off, even if they had to go past where they wanted to stop: so T 
had to ride round on the omnibus at least three-quarters of an hour 
before T was taken to where I wanted to go. 

The woman's name, where I had been told to go, was Mrs. 
Curtis. She was a widow, and owned her own house and grounds: 
she had quite a nice, comfortable little house. But she was a 
queer genius. Old Father Lewis, who had once been pastor of 
the A. M. E. Church at Salem, and at this time was pastor of the 
church at Jersey City Heights, X. J., had recommended me to 
Sister Curtis, because she was alone and had plenty of room, and 
he thought it would be so nice for me. It was more than a half 
mile from the locality in which the colored church was situated, 



154 



Autobiography of 



and in which the majority of the colored people lived. But Sister 
Curtis seemed as though she was frightened at me. I told her 
who had sent me to her house, and how the Lord had called me 
to His work, and all my story of the Lord's doing. She listened, 
but was very nervous. Then she said she didn't know what in 
the world she would do, for she hadn't anything but some hard 
bread to give me to eat, and she hadn't any sugar; and I said, 
" Well, no matter for that. I can eat hard bread, and I can drink 
tea without sugar, if you can only accommodate me till Monday, 
at least." 

Well, she said she could keep me all night, but she didn't 
like to leave any one in the house on Monday, because she gen- 
erally went away to wash; and she generally had the cold pieces 
given her from the hotel where she went to wash dishes, and that 
was all she could give me to eat. 

She knew how we colored people are about eating; we do like 
to eat; so I think she told me that thinking she would frighten 
me; but I agreed to everything. Then I asked her if she could 
tell me where Brother Cooper, who was then pastor, lived. She 
said, " Yes, it is about a mile and a half." 

I asked her if she would show me which way to go. She did 
so, but did not give me anything to eat. I was very hungry, but 
I did not ask her for anything. So I started off about three 
o'clock, or a little after, and went to see Brother Cooper. 

I was tired, and walked slowly, and it was about half-past 
four when I got up to the little village above. I inquired my way, 
and was told that Sister Johnson lived right close by Brother 
Cooper's, and if I would go to her house she could tell me, for it 
was just through her yard to Brother Cooper's house. So I went. 
I knocked at the door. The sister was in; several nice looking 
little children were playing around, and an elegant pot of cabbage 
was boiling over the fire. My! how nice it did smell; and I did 
wish and pray that the Lord would put it into her heart to ask me 
to have something to eat. I hinted all I knew how, but she did 
not take the hint. I knew by the sound of it that it was done and 
ought to come off ! 

I told her my story; told her about Brother Lewis; she was 
very glad to hear from him. I asked her if I could stay all night, 
because I felt so tired that I thought I could not walk back to 
Sister Curtis'. She said at once she could not possibly have me 



Amanda Smith. 



155 



stay all night. Her mother had been dead about three months, 
and she had taken down the bedsteads, and she was so overburdened 
with her grief she had never put them up. and they were all lying 
on the floor. 

I told her no matter for that: I could sleep on the floor just as 
well. Xo. she did not have room. She could not possibly do ii. 

Well, I stayed till it was pretty dark. It was after six o'clock. 
The more I talked the more she gave me to see that she was not 
going to ask me to have any cabbage, or to stay all night. 

So I said to her, " Will you tell me where Brother Cooper, the 
minister, lives? " 

''Oh, yes," she said, "Twill send one of the chiclren with 
you.'' 

When I got to Brother Cooper's I knocked, and Brother 
Cooper came to the door: he was an awful timid man: so he stood 
at the door, holding it half open and leaning out a little ways, 
and asked me who I was. I told him that I was Amanda Smith: that 
the Lord sent me to Salem. Then I went on. standing at the door, 
telling him how the Lord had led me. and all about it. His wife, 
who was a little more thoughtful than he. heard me. and she 
called out to him, and said. " Cooper, why don't you ask the sister 
to come in." So then he said. " Come in. Sister." 

I was awful glad, so I went in. Sister Cooper was getting 
supper. The table was set, and I thought. "Maybe. I will get 
something to eat now." 

So I went on and finished my story, and they seemea to be 
greatly interested: and when the supper was quite ready, she said. 
"Will you have some supper, Sister Smith': " I thanked her. and 
told her I would. 

While I was eating my supper who should come in but good 
Brother Holland, that had been on the boat. He said to Brother 
and Sister Cooper, *'I am glad you have Sister Smith here. You 
needn't be afraid of her. she is all right: I have known her for 
years. I have not seen her since I was pastor at Lancaster." 

Then they brightened up a little bit. and seemed to be a little 
more natural. My heart was glad. It was quarterly meeting, and 
Brother Holland was to preach in the morning and Brother Cooper 
in the afternoon. So Brother Holland said, as he was Presiding 
Elder, I might speak at night and tell my story 

" All right," I said. 



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Autobiography of 



After a little talk, Brother Holland left. Sister Cooper said 
she would be very glad to have me stay all night, but they had no 
room. They had not been long there, and had only fitted up one 
room for their own use. They thought they would make out with 
that for the winter. So then I was obliged to walk a mile and a half 
back to Sister Curtis'. y I did hate to do it, but the Lord helped me. 

So I stayed that night at Sister Curtis', and she gave me a 
little breakfast on Sunday morning, but it was mighty skimpey! 
But I found out that a good deal of praying fills you up pretty 
well when you cannot get anything else! On Sunday morning we 
went to Love Feast, and had a good time. Prior to this I had 
been asking the Lord to give me a message to give when 1 went 
to Salem. I said, " Lord, I don't want to go to Salem without a 
message. And now you are sending me to Salem, give me the mes- 
sage. What shall I say?" 

Two or three times I had gone before the Lord with this 
prayer, and His word was, " It shall be made known to you when 
you come to the place what you shall say." And I said, ''All 
right, Lord." So I didn't trouble Him any more till this Sunday 
morning. The Lord helped Brother Holland preach. When he 
got through preaching and the collection was taken, Brother 
Cooper made the announcement that I was there; he said, " There 
is a lady here, Mrs. Amanda Smith " (he had never seen me before 
or heard of me, and he was a rather jovial kind of a man, and in 
making this announcement he said, in a half sarcastic and half 
joking way), "Mrs. Smith is from New York; she says the Lord 
sent her; " with a kind of toss of the head, which indicated that 
he did not much believe it. Oh, my heart fell down> and I said, 
"Oh! Lord, help. Give me the message." 

The Lord saw that I had as much as I could stand up under, 
and He said, "Say, 'Have ye received the Holy Ghost since ye 
believed ? ' " (Acts 9:2). That was the message; the first message 
the Lord gave me. I trembled from head to foot. 

A good sister took me home with her to dinner. The people 
all seemed very kind. I felt quite at home when I got with them. 
We came back in the afternoon and had a wonderful meeting. 

At night after Brother Holland had preached a short sermon, 
he called me up to exhort. As I sat in the pulpit beside him, he 
saw I was frightened. He leaned over and said, " Now, my child, 
you needn't be afraid. Lean on the Lord. He will help you. : * 



Amanda Smith. 



157 



And He did help me. There was a large congregation. The 
gallery was full, and every part of the house was packed. I stood 
up trembling. The cold chills ran over me. My heart seemed to 
stand still. Oh, it was a night. But the Lord gave me great lib- 
erty in speaking. After I had talked a little while the cold chills 
stopped, my heart began to beat naturally and all fear was gone, 
and I seemed to lose sight of everybody and everything but my 
responsibility to God and my duty to the people. The Holy Ghost 
fell on the people and we had a wonderful time. Souls were con- 
victed and some converted that night. 'But the meeting did not 
go on from that. 

Thursday night was the regular prayer meeting night. 
Brother Cooper said I was there, and would preach Thursday 
night. He was going to give me a chance to preach, and he 
wanted all the people to come out. 

There was no snow, but Oh! it was cold. The ground was 
frozen. The moon shone brightly, and the wind blew a perfect 
gale. One good thing, I did not have to go back to Sister Curtis'. 
Another good sister asked me to her house to stay. She made me 
very comfortable, but said I would have to be alone most of the 
day, as she was going to some of the neighbors to help with the 
butchering, as they do in the countr} T . I was very glad of that, 
for it gave me a chance to pray. So I fasted and prayed and read 
my Bible nearly all day. Oh, I had a good time. And then I 
thought I would visit a neighbor near by, another friend. So I 
did; and this was a good old mother in Israel. I told her a little 
of my experience, and then I told her the message the Lord had 
given me to speak about, and how it would lead to the subject of 
sanctification. 

"My child," she at once said, "don't you say a word about 
sanctification here. Honey, if you do, they will persecute you to 
death. My poor husband used to preach that doctrine, and for 
years he knew about this blessing. But, Oh! honey, they perse- 
cuted him to death. You must not say a word about it." 

Well, there I was again! So I went home, and the next day I 
prayed to God all day. I asked Him to give me some other mes- 
sage. If this message was going to do so much damage, I did not 
want it. But no, the Lord held me to it." Not a ray of light on 
anything else but that. I didn't know what to do, but I made up 
my mind it was all I ever would do, so I would obey God and take 



158 



Autobiography of 



the consequences. I thought sure from what the dear old mother 
told me that the results would be fatal; I didn't know but I would 
be driven out. But not so. "Obedience is better than sacrifice, 
and to hearken than the fat of rams." 

Thursday was a beautiful, bright day; but Oh! cold, bitterly 
cold. So I got down and prayed and said, "Lord, Thou hast sent 
me to Salem, and hast given me the message. Now for an evidence 
that Thou hast indeed sent me, grant to cause the wind to cease 
blowing at this fearful rate. Thou knowest Lord, that I want 
people to hear Thy message that Thou hast given me. They will 
not mind the cold, but the wind is so terrible. Now cause the 
wind to cease to blow, and make the people come out." 

The wind blew all day; all the afternoon. I started to go 
across the field, about a half mile from where I was, to talk and 
pray with a friend. On my way back, about five o'clock, as I was 
crossing a ditch which ran through the field, bordered on either 
side by a row of hedge trees, and a little plank across it for a kind 
of a foot bridge, the wind wrapped me round and took me down 
into the ditch. I could not hold on, could not control myself. I 
expected to be thrown up against the trees, and I cried out to Him 
all alone, "Oh! Lord, Thou that didst command the wind to cease 
on the Sea of Galilee, cause this wind to cease and let me get 
home." 

Just then there came a great calm, and I got up out of that 
ditch and ran along to the house. By the time we went to church 
it was as calm as a summer evening; it was cold, but not a bit 
windy — a beautiful, moonlight night. 

The church was packed and crowded. I began my talk from 
the chapter given, with great trembling. I had gone on but a little 
ways when I felt the spirit of the Lord come upon me mightily. 
Oh! how He helped me. My soul was free, The Lord convicted 
sinners and backsliders and believers for holiness, and when I 
asked for persons to come to the altar, it was filled in a little while 
from the gallery and all parts of the house. 

A revival broke out, and spread for twenty miles around. Oh! 
what a time it was. It went from the colored people to the white 
people. Sometimes we would go into the church at seven o'clock 
in the evening. I could not preach. The whole lower floor would 
be covered with seekers — old men, young men, old women, young 
women, boys and girls. Oh! glory to God! How He put His seal 



Amanda Smith. 



159 



on this first work to encourage my heart and establish my faith, 
that He indeed had chosen, and ordained and sent me. 1 do not 
know as I have ever seen anything to equal that first work, the 
first seal that God gave to His work at Salem. Some of the young 
men that were converted are in the ministry. Some have died in 
the triumph of faith. Others are on the way. I went on two 
weeks, day and night. We used to stay in the church till one and 
two o'clock in the morning. People could not work. Some of the 
young men would hire a wagon and go out in the country ten 
miles and bring in a load, get them converted, and then take them 
back. . 

One night I was so weary they said they would get on without 
me, and I could have a rest. A Mr. Huff had asked me to go to 
his house. Two of his sons had been converted. He had been a 
member of the church, but had got cold and backslidden. His 
wife was pretty much in the same condition. They had three 
younger children, ten and thirteen years of age. So I went to their 
house to have a rest. Before we went to bed that night we had 
family prayer. They had got out of the way of that, Mrs Huff 
told me. She had got stirred up, so was anxious about her hus- 
band. I read the Bible and explained the Word the best I could; 
then I sang; then I got down to pray. There was a young man 
by the name of Williams, Mr. Huff's nephew, about twenty-one 
years of age, with them at the house. We knelt down to pray. 
I told Sister Huff she ought to pray in her family. Poor thing, 
she had prayed so little for a long time, it was rather hard; but 
she did. After she prayed, I sang a verse, then prayed. Archie 
Huff, the son, had been converted two or three days before, won- 
derfully. I asked him to pray. So he pra} T ed, as a young convert, 
simply and earnestly, though he was very hoarse; but the Lord 
helped him. When he got through praying I sang another hymn; 
and by that time old Mr. Huff had tumbled over on the floor and 
was praying out loud for the Lord to save him; so I began to pray; 
and while I was praying, the 3~oung nephew, Williams, fell out 
and shook the house. And there we were. And while these two 
brethren were praying, and Archie and I were praying, and 
the old woman was praying, (as it was out in the country we 
didn't whisper at all; we talked right out), these younger children, 
a little girl ten years old, and the boys, twins, about thirteen years 
old, got converted. The little girl was sitting up at the opposite 



100 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 



side of the room (her mother had put her to bed), praying for the 
Lord to bless her. The two boys had got up and come down, and 
they were praying that the Lord would bless them. I said, " Oh, 
Lord, what will I do? I have no help but Thee only. Help, 
Lord!" I thought if 1 only had somebody to sing; but there was 
nobody — only Archie and I; and we had got so hoarse that we 
could not do much. But it was beautiful just to see God do it all! 

The whole five of them were converted that night. Oh, what 
a time. And so we were into it till about twelve or one o'clock. 
Then I slipped off and lay down a little while. 

The news got out through the neighborhood, so they sent for 
me to come to another house next day, about a mile and a half 
away. Old man Huff hitched up his team, and he and his 
nephew and Archie and I went over to the neighbor's This man 
was a very moral kind of a man. He had been seeking the Lord, 
but he had got a little discouraged, so they thought if I would go 
and talk to him it would help him. I thought " I will have a quiet 
time over here." 

I got there about four o'clock in the afternoon. We talked 
and had a pleasant time, and had supper; and I thought we would 
have prayers after awhile. Well, about eight o'clock one or two 
persons came in, neighbors; that made five or six of us. 

"Dear me," I thought to myself, "I have not strength to 
talk any longer, so I will just give out a hymn, and we will sing 
and have prayers. " 

So I did, and we got down to pray. I asked somebody to 
pray. While we were praying, three or four more came in. 
When we got through that prayer some one else struck in, and 
two or three more came in; so we had twelve or thirteen persons, 
packed in like sardines in a box. And pretty soon this man that 
had been seeking, cried out for salvation. Oh, how he prayed! 
It was not long till he began to believe; and what always follows 
earnest faith is victory. When he shouted victory it struck terror 
to the others that were not converted, and that night there were 
five or six converted in that house. Oh! what a victory! 

Next day we visited round through the neighborhood. How 
the shouts of praise and hallelujah to God seemed to be every- 
where we went. So I went back to church, for I did not get any 
rest there, and we went on two or three weeks longer. From there 
I went to Millville, N. J., with similar results. I remember one 



Amanda Smith. 



101 



night at Millville, after Brother Leonard Patterson had preached, 
he said I was to take the services and go on indefinitely. 

There had been some little misunderstanding between two or 
three of the members, so there was not a very good feeling existing 
all around; and while we had good meetings, we would come right 
up to a point and stick. So after I had gone on three or four 
nights, I proposed to have a day of fasting and prayer, which they 
all quite readily agreed to. I said: ''Xow, I don't want anybody 
to promise to fast that cannot: some people cannot stand it; but 
just you who think you can fast one day, and pray to God for the 
outpouring of His Spirit — I want you to stand up." 

Among those who stood up was an old Brother Cooper: they 
called him " Father Cooper. " He had enjoyed the blessing of sanc- 
tification for about forty years. Oh, what a grand man he was! 
When that old man prayed, something gave way. There were 
several old brethren that I did not expect would fast at all. So 
Father Cooper got up and I said: " Brother Cooper, you cannot 
stand it. I don't mean you." 

"Oh," he said, "Honey, I don't mean to let the children 
outrun me." 

Another old man got up and said: "No, indeed, the children 
can't get ahead of me: I'm going with them." So one or two of 
the sisters and I visited from house to house. We prayed and 
talked and sang. I was led to visit two white families. They 
were poor people. The Devil tried to scare me: told me they were 
Roman Catholics, and would put me out. I had quite a little 
struggle, but finally I got victory and went. I do not know 
whether they were Roman Catholics or not: but the Lord helped 
me to speak to them and pray. One woman was so glad: she had 
a sick child. I talked to her and comforted her. 

That night when we came together the Lord helped me to 
speak to them, and He sent His Spirit. When I asked them to 
come forward to the altar, those that were seeking purity; and 
those that were seeking pardon, I asked Father Cooper to lead in 
prayer. I shall never forget that prayer. I seem to see it ail, and 
hear it yet. 

There were two that had been leading sisters in the church, 
that did not speak to each other, and were neighbors, were stand- 
ing in pews close to each other. They did not come forward to 
the altar when the others came, but I saw the Spirit of the Lord 



1G2 



Autobiography of 



had hold of them; and while Father Cooper was praying, the 
Holy Ghost fell on the people, and these two sisters were struck 
by the power of God like lightning. One of them walked out of 
her seat and went over to the seat of the other and shook hands 
and wept, and one of them, a few minutes after, whirled over the 
back of the seat and down on the floor, and she walked on her 
back clear down the aisle up to one side and into the altar. I 
think if anybody had told her to do it she never could have done it. 

It was a marvelous time. I have never seen anything like it 
before or since. There was one man that had been seeking the 
Lord for eight years. Everybody thought he was converted. He 
lived with his mother, who was a widow. Everybody, white and 
colored, liked and respected him. He w r as a good man, always 
went to church, and so the people said he was converted; but he 
did not know it. So when they told me this a day or two before 
the da} T of fasting and prayer, I had this man, with some others, 
specially on my mind. After this great victory, we worked till 
about eleven or twelve o'clock. I said, "Well, we will take up 
these who are seeking. We will just have them rise now." 

We colored people did not use to get up off our knees quick 
like white folks; when we went down on our knees to get some- 
thing, we generally got it before we got up. But we are a very 
imitative people, so I find we have begun to imitate white people, 
even in that. The Lord help us. 

This poor young man got up and put his overcoat on, and he 
was sitting down and looking so sad, as though he was nearly 
heart-broken. I had talked and prayed and tried to help him all 
I could; and there never was a soul prayed more earnestly and 
sincerely than he did. But there he stuck. T stood and looked at 
him for a moment. O, how they sang. At last I went up to him 
and said: "Look here, Charlie D., why don't you let go and 
shout?" 

"Oh!" he wept, "Lord save me!" 

"Well," I said, "The Lord does save you; but you won't 
believe Him." And I said, "Let go and shout!' 

And the Spirit of the Lord seemed to fall upon him, just like 
you would sprinkle hot coals on any one. He sprang to his feet, 
and the light went all over him like fire, and it seemed as though 
he would tear himself to pieces for a minute. " Oh," he said, " I 
have found it, I have found it, I have found it! " 



Amanda Smith. 



163 



This sent a thrill through the whole church, and again there 
was a shout; such a shout you never heard nor saw. It was about 
one o'clock before we got out that night. I shall never forget that 
meeting at Millville. Praise the Lord! He does all things well. 
Amen. Amen. 



CHAPTER XTIT. 



MY REMEMBRANCES OF CAMP MEETING — SECOND CAMP MEET- 
ING — SINGING — OBEDIENCE IS BETTER THAN SACRIFICE. 

My first national Holiness Camp Meeting was at Oakington, 
Maryland, July, 1870. When I saw the notice in the paper of this 
meeting, I thought I would like to go. But then I was a poor 
washwoman, and how could I go? I went to do a few days' 
work for Mrs. Margaret Clark, when she lived on Dominick street, 
and was one of the naming members of the Duane Methodist 
Church, and was a camp meeting woman of the old fashioned 
stamp. She said to me one day, " Sister Smith, you ought to go 
to the camp meeting at Oakington." 

I said, " I should like to go if I could get something to do, tak- 
ing care of the lodging tent, or get a chance as waitress in the 
boarding tent, so as to earn a little something." My rent was six 
dollars a month, and if I lost two weeks, then what would I do? So 
I said, "You write and get me a situation." 

"Well, yes," she said, "but you won't get much good of the 
meeting that way." 

"Well," I said, "I can't go any other way." So she said, 
" All right," 

I went home and prayed that the Lord would open the way 
for me, and hoped. 

Next week when I went, I expected to hear favorably from 
Mrs. Clark's letter. She said she had not heard from her letter 
yet, but said, "Sister Smith, why don't you trust the Lord and go 
to get the benefit of the meeting? " I was struck with the thought, 
just what I would like to have done. Then I thought, "What, 
trust the Lord about my rent? " I had not heard of such a thing, 
certainly I had never done it. I thought a moment and then said, 
"1 will. " 

(164) 



Amanda Smith. 



165 



Then Mrs. Clark said, "You can take your own bed-tick 
and have it filled, and you can have room in our tent to sleep, and 
you will only have our tent to look after." How my heart leaped 
for joy. Then she told me how to manage, and I worked away, 
gathered what I could together and so got enough to pay my 
round trip ticket and had just ten cents over. When the time 
came Mrs. Clark said, " Send your trunk down to our house and 
it can go with our things in the morning." 

I did so, but when the man got there a little after six o'clock 
in the morning they were all gone. When I got to the Cortlandt 
Street Ferry. I found my trunk was not there, the man had taken 
it to Debrosses Street Ferry, so the old man told me I had better 
go up to Debrosses street, about two miles away. My heart beat, 
I didn't know what to do. I thought, "I can't walk, it is so far, 
and I am so weary." I thought I might catch the train, and so 
took the street cars. Then I thought, "If 1 pay the ten cents to 
go up and down, how am I going to get through the ferry? " 

I got back, but of course missed the train. I had to wait from 
about eight o'clock till half past ten. It seemed that everything 
was against me. O, how earnestly I did pray. I found that I 
was twenty-five cents short when I went to buy my ticket, that is 
if I got an excursion ticket, so I didn't know what to do. I asked 
the Lord to let me see some one I knew, so as to ask them to lend 
it to me. There were a great many persons waiting to go by the 
same train, among them was Rev. Henry Belden, whom I had 
often met at the Palmer meetings; Rev. Mr. Wells, pastor of the 
Seventeenth Street Methodist Church; Mr. Faulkner, and a num- 
ber of other members of the church. They were all very kind to 
me. I thought, " Shall I ask Brother Belden for the twenty-five 
cents? 

Just as I looked around, who should be there but Brother 
Clark. 

44 O," I said, 44 1 thought you had gone." 

44 1 will not go," he said, 44 till Saturday," — this was Wednes- 
day morning, I think, — 44 Mrs. Clark left something and I hurried 
back to get it, and when I got here the train had just gone, so you 
will take it." 

44 Mr. Clark, will you please loan me twenty-five cents?" 
44 1 have no change," he said, 44 but a two dollar bill, I will 
give you that and you can give it to me when I come." 



166 



Autobiography of 



So I got my ticket all right. Now the gates open, and the 
rush and noise — it was all so new to me then. I got in at last and 
took my seat, and I sat thinking and wondering how I would pay 
good Brother Clark his two dollars when he came on Saturday. 
" Lord, help me," I said, "and open the way for me." 

Then Satan said to me, " If you had not bought that package 
of tracts you wouldn't have had to borrow that two dollars." 

A day or two before, I had bought at the Bible House, a pack- 
age of holiness tracts — they cost thirty cents. I knew my. money 
was short, but holiness was so sweet to me that I wanted every- 
body to get it, and these tracts set the truth forth in such a clear, 
reasonable light I thought I might do a little work for the Lord in 
giving them to persons, so that was why I got them. The Devil 
don't like holiness anyhow, and I was ignorant of his devices, and 
was among strangers. He tried his best to pick a quarrel with 
me. After a little while I got my pack and took out the tracts 
and began to read, and in spite of all, I felt happy, and felt I had 
done right in getting them. The train went on. In a little while 
some one began to sing. I was asked to join in the song, and a 
real pleasant going to camp meeting we had. After the singing 
was. over, Mr. Faulkner came back to the seat where I was sitting 
and said: "What are you reading, Auntie?" I handed him the 
package of tracts. 

" Ah, do you know anything about holiness?" he said. 

My heart caught fire in a moment, and I began to tell what 
great things the Lord had done for me, and after listening a while, 
he said, " I want to give our pastor, Brother Wells, some of these 
tracts," and I think he said his daughter and some other ladies 
were interested in the subject. 

" All right, sir," I said, " I am very glad to have you take as 
many as you like." When he got through he returned what were 
not used. 

" They are very good, and you must pray that God will bless 
them." 

Then he handed me a two dollar bill. " I don't sell them, sir," 
I said. 

He smiled and replied, "But don't you buy them?" 

" Yes, but I didn't paj 7 that for them, sir." 

" No matter," he said, " I guess you can use it, can't you?'' 

"O, yes, sir, thank you, praise the Lord." Then he went away. 



Amanda Smith. 



167 



I saw how God had answered my prayer, and paid the two 
dollars I had borrowed of dear Brother Clark. " It shall come to 
pass that before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet 
speaking I will hear." Isaiah, 65:24. So when Brother Clark 
came on Saturday, I was glad to hand him the two dollars. 

That camp meeting I shall never forget,. How God gave me 
friends and blessed me. It was the first time I had ever been to a 
meeting of that kind. I had never heard such testimonials and 
such preaching on holiness. The Sunday morning Love Feast will 
never be forgotten. The Lord laid it on me to give my experience 
of how I found the great salvation, and as I spoke He blest me 
greatly and the people as well. At the close, Brother Inskip said 
they wanted five hundred dollars — I think it was that amount — 
for the expenses of the big tent. Some person proposed to divide 
the amount in shares, so there was a hearty and prompt response, 
for everybody seemed to be so happy, and in about ten or fifteen 
minutes they had the amount, and over. I wanted to give some- 
thing, I was so glad and happy I thought I would like to give ten 
dollars if I had it, so I said, "Thou knowest, Lord, if I had it I 
would give it, do put it into somebody's heart to give it for me." 

I had hardly uttered the prayer when dear old Brother John 
McGlynn stood up and said, "Ten dollars for that colored sister 
that just now spoke." 

"Praise the Lord! thank you, sir," I shouted. O, I felt I 
could fly. 

It was there I began to learn the deep meaning of the text, 
" Ask and ye shall receive, seek and ye shall find, knock and it 
shall be opened unto you." 

In the afternoon I went into the tent where Brother Purdy was 
leading a meeting; he was probing and testing those who were 
seeking full salvation, for all who know Brother Purdy and his 
methods know that no one slips through his fingers easy, who is 
seeking for pardon or purity. He probes deep, praise the Lord. I 
listened. I knew my own heart measured up to each of these tests 
and I could say, " Praise the Lord! " My soul was all aglow with 
holy triumph. I stepped up and said, " Brother Brady, would you 
like to try your probe on me?" 

He was all taken back, but in his pleasant way said, "Yes, 
«^n you stand it, Amanda?" 

"Yes, sir;" and I took up the different tests he had given 



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Autobiography of 



and went through with them. The power of the Lord came 
down upon us, and O, what a meeting; sinners were converted, 
believers sanctified. The meeting lasted long after the preaching 
began in the evening. People came from all parts of the ground. 

There I first met Mr. and Mrs. Martyr, of Philadelphia, who 
afterwards were very good friends to me. They are both now in 
Heaven. 

It was the first time that I saw Rev. B. F. Adams. He 
preached a wonderful sermon on Sunday morning, and gave his 
experience how he got the blessing of sanctification. The power 
of the Spirit was manifest. Brother Adams sat down in a tempest 
of glory. It was the very Sunday that Rome was declaring the 
infallibility of the Pope. Brother Boole sprang to his feet, as by 
inspiration and said, as he only could say it: 

"In Rome to-day they are crowning the Pope infallible; let's 
rise and sing, 'All hail the power of Jesus 1 name, and crown Him 
Lord of all,' in our hearts forever." 

And the whole congregation rose in an instant as one, and I 
think I never heard such singing — never heard that old Corona- 
tion sung as it was that day. Yes, we crowned Him King of 
Kings and Lord of Lords. Hallelujah! for the Lord God Omnipo- 
tent reigneth! 

As I had learned at Oakington to trust the Lord for temporal 
things, and He had blest me so wonderfully. I began to pray about 
going to Sing Sing, and the Lord sent help. A few days before 
the meeting opened, Brother Munson, of Twenty-fourth Street 
Methodist Church, where my friend, Sister Scott, and myself used 
to go at times to his class, was down town one morning, and the 
Lord sent him into 135 Amity street, where I lived, in New York. 

"Well, Sister Smith," he said, "are you ready for the camp 
meeting? " 

" I am asking the Lord to open the way for me." 

"Well, here are two dollars to help you along." 

I did praise the Lord for another indication of His loving 
kindness. Calling a brother's name who was a member of his 
class, he said his family would give me a place to sleep in their 
tent, if I liked, or I could have a corner in the large meeting tent. 
"Praise the Lord," I said, "He doeth all things well. Now, tell 
me how to go, and all about it." 

He did so, and left. I had a good time after he had gone, 



Amanda Smith. 



169 



thanking God for His wonderful love to me. It was all a new 
experience, but so beautiful because I saw the Lord's hand in all. 
The day came, and my little daughter Mazie and I were off to the 
camp meeting. The Lord gave me many friends, and taught me 
new lessons. I remember many dear ones of those days, though so 
many have gone to be with God. Rev. John Cookman, who was 
then pastor of Bedford Street Church, and Rev. Brother Head 
strum, that wonderful man of God, Brother Moorehouse, and a 
number of others, were there. How well I remember dear John 
Cookman: he was then a power. I have no objection to his going 
to Heaven when his work was done, but somehow I felt as though 
he might have gone as safely through the dear old Methodist 
Church, that his father and brother Alfred, of blessed memory, 
loved and served so long: but praise the Lord, anyhow there are 
no sects in Heaven. Hallelujah: Oh, the City will be full of 
blood-washed souls out of every kindred, tongue and people. "What 
a gathering of the people that will be." 

Then there was Brother Tom Sherwood, and Brother Knox, 
and King. What tim^s we used to have in the police tent meet- 
ings: Brother John MeClain's tent was where the young people 
held their meetings. There I first saw and heard Laura Bowden 
(afterwards Mrs. Crane): she was then in her prime of power. 
How the Lord did use her testimony and exhortation to the saving 
of many, young and old. I had never seen or heard of a young 
people's and children's meeting till then. All this was so new to 
me. and yet was grand. 

One day Mrs. Dr. Butler was to speak on the Zenana work in 
India. where she and her husband spent so many years. Miss Bowden 
was to have charge of the Young People's Meeting. Mrs. Butler's 
meeting was in a tent in another part of the grounds and for ladies 
only. I wanted to hear Miss Bowden so much, for she was so clear 
on the subject of holiness, and this was my heart's delight, then I 
wanted to hear Mrs. Butler on India. I had never heard a mis- 
sionarv address in my life. At that time we had no Woman's 
Foreign Mission Work in our church; but it is different to-day. 
thank God. 

I thought it all over, and decided to go into Mrs. Butler's 
meeting: she was to leave, and Miss Bowden would be there longer, 
so I would have another chance to hear her, I went into Mrs. 
Butler's meeting: it was in a large tent, and full of nice and many 



170 



Autobiography of 



richly dressed ladies. I slipped in at the door and sat down behind 
them. Mrs. Butler had a small table in front of her; and on it a 
number of different heathen gods, such as were worshiped in India, 
and I had never seen anything of the kind before, but T thought it 
can't be that human beings worship such hideous things for gods. 
My heart melted, and I wept bitterly and thought, " O, if I could 
only go and sing that very familiar old hymn, ' I am so glad that 
Jesus loves me.' " It was new then and I had sung it a great deal, 
and God had blest it to so many souls. I thought, 44 If I could go 
and sing this hymn they would all be converted right off," but O, 
how little I knew about heathen superstitions and customs. 

Well, I had only two dollars and a half in the world, that was 
to get my little girl a pair of shoes. She had walked about in the 
grass and got her shoes run inside. She was caring for Mrs. Yico's 
little child, and I didn't like her to have on those uncomfortable 
walking shoes, so the next morning I was to send to the village 
after them. I sat listening to Mrs. Butler. She made an appeal 
to the ladies for the Zenana work, and told how small a sum would 
keep a Bible woman in the field a year. "O," I thought, "if I 
had it I would give twenty dollars." 

There was a pause, and only a few responded to this appeal 
out of the great number in the tent. I thought it very strange. 
By and by two ladies elegantly dressed got up and went out. They 
had on fine Leghorn hats, trimmed with deep black lace, elegant 
black lace shawls. "O," I said to myself, "those ladies ought to 
give twenty dollars, they must be rich." Then, as Mrs. B. talked 
on, others got up and left, giving nothing. How sad I felt. Just 
then the Spirit said distinctly to me, "You give that two dollars," 
and I said, " I will." 

"Yes," the Devil said, "you will look nice to go up there with 
just two dollars; if you had five it would be something like." 

Then I felt ashamed to give two dollars, and thought if I 
could only get out. 

Then he suggested, "If you had gone to that Young People's 
Meeting you would not have felt so bad." 

"Yes," I said, "I wish I had gone." 

"Give the two dollars," the Spirit said again. 

"Your child needs the shoes and you have no more," the 
Devil said. "Your first duty is to your child." 

How concerned he was for her then! 



Amaxda Smith. 



171 



I thought I would go out, and as I started the Spirit said, 
"God knows why you are going out; it is because you don't want 
to give that two dollars." 

O. I felt I could scream out, so I went up to Mrs. Butler, sob- 
bing like a child, and said, •• Mrs. Butler."' She looked at me and 
I said, " Can I go to India ? " 

"I wish you could." she said so kindly. 

"Well," said I, "will you take two dollars ?" 

" Yes, I will," she said, "I will give you a paper, too." 

It was the "Heathen Woman's Friend." I had never seen it 
before, so I went and sat down, and O. such a wave of glory swept 
over my soul, and I said, " Lord, I thank Thee, for I believe I have 
done right." 

. Just then the Devil said. "He that provideth not for his own 
household is worse than an infidel." It was like a shot, for it was 
in the Bible, and I had read it. and I didn't know what to do. I 
closed my eyes and lifted my heart to God and said. "Lord, T 
don't understand it. but somehow I feel I have done right." Then 
the Lord sent another shower of blessing to my soul. O. it went 
all through me like oil and honey! How good the Lord was to me, 
and at just that moment. Hallelujah! What a Saviour! 

At half-past two the bell rang at the stand for preaching. I 
walked down rather slowly, and when I gut there some one was 
making a plea for twenty dollars or more for putting the water 
tanks on top of the hill, so as to be more convenient for the people. 
A gentle whisper came to me. "Give that fifty cents." 

"You will be a fool to give that." the Devil suggested. 4i for 
some one might give you two dollars: then you would have the 
fifty cents so you could get the shoes." 

"Yes." I said to myself . ''I guess I have got in sympathy 
with things, looking at them and hearing them." So I shut my 
eyes and turned round so as not to look up as the basket passed. 
But the man came and passed the basket right under my face, 
and I rose up and threw the fifty cents in the basket and said, 
" Glory to God for nothing, and hallelujah for everything, for I 
have eot Jesus yet: " and O. such a wave of salvation swept 
through my soul, and I said, M Lord, I thank Thee for helping me 
to do right. " 

By and by the preacher commenced. I listened. Rev. John 
Cookman preached one of his strong holiness sermons. I was 



172 Autobiography of 

greatly blest; but every now and then the Devil would assail me 
and I would say, " Lord, help me; I believe I have done right/' 
And He blest me still further. It was a fight; but thanks be to 
God who giveth us the victory. 

After the meeting was over I went to my tent to get our tea 
ready. It was now about six o'clock, and just as we were sitting 
down and had begun our meal a voice called from the outside: 

"Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Smith, Grandpa says you and Mazie must 
come and get your supper." 

It was good old Father Brummel's little grandson. 

" Billy, tell your grandpa I thank him, but we are having our 
supper and will come some other time." 

I thought he had gone, but in a few minutes more he called 
out again: 

"Mrs. Smith, Grandpa says you and Mazie must come over 
and get your supper." 

So Mazie said, "Well, Ma, we had better go." 

We had some peaches cut down. I said, "What shall we do 
with our peaches? " 

"O," she said, "let's leave them for morning." 

" All right," I said. So wlien we got in dear Brother Brum- 
mell's tent he said, "Come, Sister Smith, sit here," pointing to 
the seat. I shall never forget his loving, kind face. We passed 
in and took our seats at the table. When I turned up my plate 
there were three one dollar bills under it, fifty cents more than I 
had given. So old Satan got whipped that time! Praise the 
Lord! That was why he assailed me so during the preaching ser- 
vice; but how sweetly Jesus delivered me out of his hand. Praise 
His name forever! 

And this is only one of the many times He has delivered me. 
O, Lord, I will praise Thee. 

After I had given the two dollars to Mrs. Butler, I sent to 
town next morning and got the shoes for my little girl just as I had 
purposed. At one o'clock Sister Jane Fee said to me, " Let us go 
to some place where we can have a little quiet and prayer together. ' ' 

We took our Bibles and went far from the ground, in an old 
apple orchard. We found a large tree out of sight of the people, 
and almost out of hearing. There we sat down and read the 
Word. Oh, how sweet it was. We wept together, and prayed, 
and praised the Lord, and made our request known, and He heard 



Amanda Smith. 



173 



us. After spending an hour, we returned to the camp ground. 
As I had had only a slight breakfast, and it was now two o'clock, 
1 was feeling quite hungry! 

As we were going down one of the avenues two gentlemen 
were standing talking. When we got up to them one of them 
reached out his hand and said to me, "This is Sister Amanda 
Smith, I believe." 

"Yes," I said, "that is my name, sir." 

" I have often heard of you. Well, Sister Smith, how are you 
getting on? " 

"Oh, very well; the Lord looks after me." 
"Well, have you had your dinner?" he asked. 
" No," I said, "not yet." 

" Here are two dollars. Go over there, (pointing to a tent); 
that is Brother C/s tent. I have just had my dinner, and they 
have a good table." 

I thanked him kindly, and praised the Lord. 

"Bat," I said, " I will not eat all this two dollars up; there 
will be some change. Where can I find you?" 

" Oh, never mind that," he said, " you can keep it; make it 
go as far as it will." 

Thus the Lord was my shepherd that day. 

At six o'clock there was a prayer meeting held at what was 
called the old Second Street, or Policemen's tent. Brother King, 
Brother Smith and a number of others took part. God was in 
the midst of us. The Lord helped in singing, praying and exhor- 
tation. How blessed it is to remember our old friends. Brother 
Tom Sherwood, with his grand " Amen," and "Bless the Lord," 
and " Glory to God," as he would so often make the woods ring 
when he would shout it. 

The next morning, at the close of the early prayer meeting, I 
stood talking with some one, when a gentleman came to me and 
said, " Have you had your breakfast? " 

"No," I said' "not yet." 

"Well, lam going home; I have some tickets, and I guess 
the Lord will have me give them to you. They will last till the 
camp meeting closes." 

"I thank God, and thank you," I said; "but as I am a 
colored woman they may object to my taking my meals at that 
tent." 



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Autobiography of 



44 1 don't think they will," he said: 44 1 do not think there will 
be any objection, but I will go and see." 

So he did; and it was all right. They treated me and my 
daughter most kindly; and the secret of it was. they were earnest 
Christians. 

These are some of the Lord's doings, and they are marvelous. 
Hallelujah! And I did sing with spirit, and with understanding. 

44 In some way or other the Lord will provide; 
It may not be my way, it may rot be thy way, 
But yet in His own way, the Lord will provide." 

And I began to trust Him for temporal as well as spiritual 
blessings as I had never done before. And Oh, how faithful was 
my Lord. How He has blessed me, and all the little I have done 
for Him. 

I had not been accustomed to take part in the meetings, 
especially when white people were present, and there was a 
timidity and shyness that much embarrassed me; but whenever 
called upon, I would ask the Lord to help me, and take the 
timidity out of me; and He did help me every time. 

I remember one Sunday, between the hours of the morning 
and evening service, there was a great concourse of people. At 
that time I had a good voice, and could sing very loud. Mrs. L. 
asked me to go to her tent, and on my way many crowded round 
me and asked me to sing. Near by was a large stump. Brother 
Smith, a class-leader at old Second Street Church, New York, 
called out, 44 Sister Smith, step up on that stump so the people 
may hear you better. By that time trrere was a crowd around me 
of about four hundred people. After I had sung one or two 
pieces, one of which was very familiar and blessed to many — 

44 All I want, all I want, 
Is a little more faith in Jesus. " 

Brother Smith said, 4 4 Sister Smith, suppose you tell the people 
your experience; how the Lord converted you." 

And I asked the Lord to help me if it was His will that I 
should honor Him in acknowledging what He had done for me. 
And I felt He would help me, so I trusted in Him and ventured to 
speak. As I went on my heart grew warm, and the power of the 
Spirit rested upon me, and many of the people wept, and seemed 



Amanda Smith. 



175 



deeply moved and interested, as they had never been before. And 
God, I believe, blessed that meeting at that big stump on the old 
Sing Sing Camp Ground. How real it all seems to me now as I 
think it over, though it was so long ago. A day or two more and 
the camp meeting was over, and I and Mazie were on the boat 
going home to New York, to my dear home, which was two small 
rooms in the rear of 135 Amity street, now called Third street, 
just above Sixth avenue. I call it my dear home because the Lord 
had so many times answered my prayer, and blessed my own soul, 
and made it the birthplace of many souls. Those two little attic 
rooms will ever be dear to me, and I feel like saying, as one of old: 
"If I forget thee, let my right hand forget her cunning; if I do 
not prefer thee above all the fine mountains in America, England, 
Scotland, Rome, Egypt, or Africa." 

"Here Fll raise my Ebenezer, 
Hither by Thy help I've come, 
And I hope by Thy good pleasure 
Safely to arrive at home." Amen. 



CHAPTER 



XTV. 



KENNEBUNK CAMP MEETING — HOW I GOT THERE, AND WAS EN- 
TERTAINED A GAZING STOCK — HAMILTON CAMP MEETING — 
ATRIP TO VERMONT — THE LOST TRUNK, AND HOW IT WAS 
FOUND. 

I had met Brother Luce at Round Lake Camp Meeting. He 
was & strong holiness preacher. Among others who had asked me 
to go to different camp meetings, he had asked me. I was a young 
beginner yet, and knew the Lord was leading. But I generally 
prayed over matters a good deal before deciding. There was a 
Mrs. Brown, who used to live at Harlem, N. Y. She was a good 
woman, and I used to work for her. I liked her very much. They 
had a tent at Round Lake, also. So one day she asked me to bring 
her a pitcher of water. 

I often did little things for the ladies, brushed and settled up 
their tents, or got them a pitcher or bucket of water. I never felt 
that it hurt my dignity. 

After I had brought her a pitcher of water, Mrs. Brown said 
to me, "We have a camp meeting at Wesley Grove at such a time, 
and we are short of workers, and I believe, Amanda, the Lord 
would bless you if you would go to our camp meeting; and all the 
money you needed would be at your disposal." 

" Thank you," I said, "there are several who have asked me 
about going to different camp meetings. But you know I have to 
pray about it. So if you give me the address I will know how to 
go when I get home and get still before the Lord, so as to know 
just where He wants me to go, for when one says 'Come here/ and 
another 'There,' I cannot tell which way or place the Lord wants 
me to go. But when I get home and get still I can know His voice. " 

So off I went at that. The day before the camp meeting 
closed T met Brother Luce again. 

(176) 



Amanda Smith. 



177 



" Now, Sister Smith," said he, " I have a church at St. Johns- 
ville, and our people have a large society tent, and you could stat- 
in it, and I would like to have you come to our camp meeting. I 
will give you my address, and when I get home I will write you 
and give you all the directions how to come, so you will have no 
trouble." 

"All right, sir; thank you," I said. 

The meeting closed, and I never had heard such wonderful 
preaching on the line of holiness. I was filled and thrilled. So 
I went home and began to pray and ask the Lord where He would 
have me go. For out of all the places I had been asked to visit, I 
wanted to know just where He would have me go. And a deep 
conviction settled down upon me that I was to go to Kennebunk. 
I liked Brother Luce and Brother Munger, and their families were 
all so kind to me while at Round Lake. Then Brother Luce would 
send me word just how to come. But to my surprise, when the 
letter came Brother Luce said, "Sister Smith, I am not well, and 
our people have decided not to take our big tent; so you had better 
not come, as you are a stranger, and have no place to stop." 

"Well," I thought, "all right. I will go to Wesley Grove, 
where Mrs. Brown wants me to go. Then I know her, and like to 
work for her. So it will be better than going to Kennebunk." 

Then the conviction to go to Kennebunk seemed to deepen, 
and I did not understand it. I must go to Kennebunk. I went 
to the Lord and told Him. I said, "Lord, I would be willing to 
go to Kennebunk, but Thou knowest Brother Luce has written 
and told me not to come. And Thou knowest it is not nice to go 
where you are told not to come. And if I do, it will look like 
impertinence after he has written and told me not to come. So I 
will go to Wesley Grove. Mrs. Brown says they need help there. 
Then I have worked for Mrs. Brown, and I am better acquainted 
with her, and that would be better for me." 

This time Satan helped me a little bit. He said, "Yes, the 
reason you want to go to Wesley Grove is because Mrs. Brown 
offered you money, and that is all you are going there for — money." 

Oh! how horrible it seemed as I thought of it. And I knew H 
was not so. And I said, " Now, Mr. Satan, that's a lie, and I will 
not go to Wesley Grove at all. I am going straight to Kenne- 
bunk, where they told me not to come. And I will show you it's 
not money I'm after." 



178 



Autobiography op 



I didn't know how much it would take for me to go to Kenne- 
bunk. I had been only to Philadelphia. So on Friday night I 
went to old John Street Church. Brother Roberts was class leader 
there. When they held their fiftieth anniversary they had made 
me, with a number of others, a life member, so I often used to go 
to this class. 

That night there was a Mr. Palmer there. He was a very 
nice man, and a very consistent Christian. When the meeting 
was over, this gentleman went to put me on the Sixth avenue 
cars. He said, as we walked along, talking, "Sister Smith, for 
years I have been seeking the blessing of heart purity, and your 
testimony to-night helped me. But why is it I do not seem to get 
out into the full light? The Lord has blessed me," he added, 
"and I have some means. I am a broker on Wall street. But I 
have consecrated all to the Lord. And any time you need any 
help, you must just let me know." 

"Well, sir," I said, "I never tell anybody but the Lord about 
my needs. He knows all, and I always tell Him to put it into the 
hearts of the people to help me when I need it, and then I leave it. " 

Now, somehow, I felt that the Lord wanted that brother to 
give me some money, for I did not have quite enough to go to Ken- 
nebunk. So I said good night, and got on the car and on I went. 
But I prayed all the way, and after I got home, that the Lord 
would trouble that man's heart, for I felt that he was disobeying 
the Spirit, and that was one reason why he could not come out 
into the light of full salvation. You must not keep back the full 
price of loyal obedience to God, and yet expect Him to bless you. 
And yet how often do we find persons doing this very thing. Then 
they wonder why they do not get on. The Lord help someone 
who reads this to see the truth. 

I felt somehow all the time that that man was the one that 
was to help me out. So next morning I got down and prayed 
again. And then I got up and began to get my things ready. I 
was doing some ironing. All at once I heard someone come run- 
ning upstairs very quickly. When he got to the foot of the stairs 
he called out, "Sister Smith! " 

"Yes," I said. Who should it be but this very brother. 

"I had an errand uptown this morning," said he, "and I 
thought I would run in and see you." 

Now he had never been to my house before in his life. So I 



Amanda Smith. 



179 



said, "The Lord sent him." I said to him, "Sit down, Brother 
Palmer." "Well," he said, "I haven't much time." 

But he did sit down a few minutes, and then he said, "I 
wanted to give you a little money." 

'•Amen," said I. "You might as well have done it last night. 
That's what the Lord told you to do." 

" Well, yes," he said. 

It was just enough, with what I had, to get me a round trip 
ticket to Kennebunk Camp Meeting. Praise the Lord! 

Then we got down on our knees and prayed. I said, " Now, 
brother, you might just as well settle this thing. The Lord is 
willing to bless vou. Why don't you let him? Why not be obedi- 
ent now? The Lord can do it now if you will just trust Him." 

So while kneeling it came to me to sing a verse or two of that 
old hymn of Charles Wesley's: 

" Come, O, Thou traveler unknown, 
Whom still I hold but cannot see. 
My company before is gone, 

And I am left alone with Thee," etc. 

After singing I said to him, " Now, Brother Palmer, pray and 
let go." 

So he did. My! how he prayed! The Lord broke him all 
down. He got blessed while he was praying. I prayed a little 
and then I sang the next verse: 

"In vain Thou strugglest to get free, 
I never will unloose my hold; 
Thou art the man that died for me, 

The secret of Thy love unfold. 
Thy mercies never shall remove, 
Thy nature and Thy name is Love." 

Then the blessed Spirit fell upon him, and he launched out 
into light and liberty. Oh ! how he praised the Lord. What a 
morning that was in that little attic room on Amity street. "And 
still there's more to follow." 

In a few days after this I was off to Kennebunk. I left New 
York by the Fall River Line at five o'clock p. m. When I got on 
the boat, to my surprise whom should I meet but Sister Clark. 

"Why/' she said, "Sister Smith, where are you going?" 



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Autobiography of 



"I am going to Kennebunk Camp Meeting. Where are you 
going? " "Well, praise the Lord," she said, " there is where I am 
going." 

We had a very pleasant evening together on the boat. We 
talked and prayed and sang. There were a number of very nice 
ladies, who seemed to enjoy Sister Clark's talk and prayers. We 
should have got into Boston, at the old Providence depot, at eight 
a. m. , so as to take the train there for Kennebunk. But on 
account of a fog the boat did not get in on time, so we were ten 
minutes late for the train. Then we had to wait till twelve o'clock, 
noon, before there was another train. Well, I was going to get my 
ticket and go on the boat from Boston. It was cheaper that way. 
But Sister Clark said: 

"Now don't do that, Sister Smith. You will lose two days of 
the camp meeting if you do that. Go right on now with me." 

Well, I thought I would like to do it, yet I didn't have money 
enough. But she said, "I think you had better do it. I think 
you had better go right on with me." 

So after talking awhile I decided to buy my ticket and go 
with her. That left me only fifty cents. After I got my ticket and 
sat down, oh! how Satan attacked me. He said, "Now you have 
been getting on, and the Lord has been leading you all the way. 
But now you have got out of the Lord's hands. You have got into 
Mrs. Clark's hands. She is leading you now." 

Oh! I felt dreadful. I wished I had not seen Mrs. Clark. I 
wished I had not come on the boat. Oh ! to think the Lord had 
blessed me so much, and now I had got right out of His hands, and 
was in the hands of a woman. I do not suppose Sister Clark ever 
knew how bad I felt. I could have cried. 

After I walked about a little while, I said to Mrs. Clark, " I 
have Miss Sarah Clapp's address." 

She lived on Winter street, Boston. I had met her at the 
camp meeting at Round Lake, and she had given me this address, 
and told me if I ever came to Boston I must call and see her. So 
I said, " I think I will go and see Miss Clapp." 

" Very well," she said, " I will stay here and mind the things. 
Be sure you get back in time." 

"Yes," I said. 

So I went out and took the car and went to Miss Clapp's. 
How glad she was to see me. She had got the blessing at the 



Amanda Smith. 



181 



Round Lake Camp Meeting, and she was praising the Lord, and 
saying how nicely the Lord had kept her, and how she had been 
getting on since she had got back to Boston. She got me some 
lunch. We sang and had a little prayer together, then she brought 
something to me and said, "I want you to take this. The Lord 
wants me to give it to you. But you must not look at it until you 
get in the cars." 

Well, I was in a fidget, because I wanted to see what it was. 
So she sent a little girl with me to put me on the right car that 
would take me right to the depot. Oh! how I did want to look at 
what she had given me. But she had made me promise not to 
look at it, so I did not. When I did look at it, lo and behold, it 
was a five dollar bill! So another triumph for Jesus. 

We arrived at Kennebunk at nine o'clock p. m. Sister Clark 
had friends that were looking for her, so they met her at the depot. 
Of course when we got to the grounds the meeting was over, and 
all the people were in their tents. I had the company of Sister 
Clark and her friend as far as the stand, or auditorium. Then 
Sister Clark said, "Sister Smith, what are you going to do? " 

" I don't know." 

The lady was with her said, " I wish I had room for you, Mrs. 
Smith, I would take you in. But really I have only room for Sister 
Clark." 

"If I could find the lodging tent," I said, " I might inquire 
whether I could get a place for the night." 

But she said she did not know really where to direct me. So 
the man set my trunk down, and I sat down on the end of a long 
bench beside it. There was one or two lights burning. 

"Now then," the Devil said, " if you had gone on the boat as 
you first thought, and had not followed Sister Clark, you would 
have got here in the day time, and it would have been much bet- 
ter. Then, besides, you might have done some good work for God 
on the boat. It is all well enough for Mrs. Clark. She had friends 
looking out for her. But no one here knows you." " That is so," 
I said, " and I am so sorry I did not go on the boat." 

One might have thought he was wonderfully interested for the 
poor sinners on the boat. What a pity I had not gone and talked 
to those people as he said. Oh! how subtle his suggestions. How 
he likes to tantalize you about what you might have done, especi- 
ally after the opportunity is past. He does it to get your eye 



182 



Autobiography of 



turned on a mistake, or on the sadness of your heart, because you 
have made a mistake, and how many poor souls he brings into 
bondage right at this point. I sat there, and in my heart I cried. 
But somehow I felt I was right in coming. So I said, "Lord, 
help me to learn the lesson. I suppose I will have to sleep under 
the stand." 

So in my mind I began to fix about which way I should lay 
my head. There was a great pile of leaves and some straw under 
the stand, to be kept dry in case it should rain. So my imagined 
bed was made. Then I thought, 44 1 wonder if there are any pigs 
about here, and if they would disturb me." 

Then I began to feel a little afraid, and I said, 44 Lord, help me, 
and do, please send some one to me." 

I had scarcely uttered the words when I saw a door open away 
at the upper part of the grounds; a man came out and walked 
to where I was sitting. A moment later, and out came a sister. 
She said, "Brother M., where are you going?" 

44 Oh! " he said, 44 1 think I see someone here! so I am looking 
about." 

By that time he was quite up to me. 44 Why, is this Amanda 
Smith?" 

44 Yes," I said. 

44 Sister A.," he called, "here is Sister Amanda Smith. Praise 
the Lord. Oh! now I see why the Lord sent me out here. I had 
no especial business, but it seemed I must come down here and 
look about. Praise the Lord." 

We had a praising time of it. They took me, bag and bag- 
gage, to the tent. It was a large society tent, and there were several 
families together. They had a large upstairs, and they said they 
could accommodate me for the night anyhow. I was so thankful. 
I had an elegant bed, and was so comfortable. In the morning 
when they had all gone downstairs I got on my knees and said, 
44 Now, Lord, this seems like the very place where Thou wantest 
me to stay. But they have said they could accommodate me 
only to-night. Now if Thou dost want me to stay here, make 
them ask me when I go downstairs, to stay. Amen." 

In the morning I arose and went downstairs. We had family 
prayers. What a time we had. It was not strange to have a bap- 
tism of the Spirit fall upon us in those days while at family prayers 
and praising the Lord. 



Amanda Smith. 



183 



When the breakfast was over I said, "Now can you tell me 
where the office is where I can go to inquire about getting a tent, 
and some straw to fill my tick and pillow? " 

" Oh! you are not going away, are you? " 

"Well, you know you were only to accommodate me till morn- 
ing, as I was out of doors last night." 

"Well, were you comfortable where you slept last night? " 

"Oh! yes." 

"Very well. You just stay where you are." 

Oh! didn't I praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his 
wonderful works to the children of men. No wonder Job said, 
" And these are only parts of His ways." Hallelujah! 

Here I must speak of Sister Clark's help when I was greatly 
tempted because the people gazed at me and followed me about 
from place to place and just stared at me. 

Under this trial I learned the meaning of the thirty-second 
and thirty-third verses of the tenth chapter of Hebrews. 

It was one Sunday. There had been a great crowd all day, 
and everywhere I would go a crowd would follow me. If I went 
into a tent they would surround it and stay till I came out, then 
they would follow me. Sometimes I would slip into a tent away 
from them. Then I would see them peep in, and if they saw me 
they would say, "Oh! here is the colored woman. Look!" Then 
the rush! So after dinner I managed to get away. I went into a 
friend's tent and said, "Let me lie down here out of sight a little 
while / ' 

"Yes," she said, " the people do not seem to have any man- 
ners. I never saw anything like it." 

So I got down on the floor under the foot of the bed, and I 
could see them as they would pass by. and hear them say, "Where 
is she, the colored woman? " 

"I don't know, but I think she is in here," someone would 
say. But I kept still. About five o'clock the people began to 
leave the ground. So about six I stepped out and went down to 
the spring. I met Sister Clark. She said, "Sister Smith, have 
you had your supper?" 

" No," I said, "there is something the matter with me." 

"What is it?" 

"The people have followed me about all day, and have stared 
at me. Somehow I feel so bad and uncomfortable." 



184 



Autobiography of 



44 Well/' she said, laughing, "don't you know the Bible says, 
4 You are to be a gazing stock? ' " 

44 No," I said, 44 is it in the Bible?" 
44 Yes." 

44 All right, I can settle it then." 

She went to the dining hall to supper, and I went down in the 
woods by myself, and there I had it out. I told the Lord how 
mean I felt because the people had looked at me. I prayed, 
44 Help me to throw off that mean feeling, and give me grace to be 
a gazing stock." And after I had prayed, I remained kneeling 
and thinking it all over. All at once a thought came to me: 
44 The other day when you were carrying the clothes home you 
saw a crowd standing and looking in at a window on Broadway, 
New York, at a picture." 

44 Yes." 

44 And you went up with the crowd and looked at it too." 
44 Yes." 

44 Y r ou heard the remarks of the people, and the approvals and 
disapprovals." 
44 Yes," I said. 

44 Did that picture say anything? " 
< 4 No." 

44 Did it injure its beauty? " 
44 No, Lord; I see it." 

I got up and went on double quick to the tent. I praised the 
Lord. I laughed, and cried, and shouted. It was so simple, and 
yet so real. The next morning at the eight o'clock meeting I got 
up and shouted, 44 1 have got the victory! Everybody come and 
look at me! Praise the Lord! " 

I was free as a bird. 

44 What a wonderful Saviour is Jesus, my Jesus, 
What a wonderful Saviour is Jesus, my Lord!" 

At this same camp meeting the Lord cured a good old brother, 
Jacob C, of prejudice. He was a well-to-do man, and had lived 
in Maine all his life. He said he had never seen many colored 
persons, and never cared to have anything to do with them when 
he could help it. If he had any business to do with them, he 
would always do it as quickly as possible and get away. So now, 
when he saw me about in the meetings he was much disturbed. 



Amanda Smith. 



185 



But still he felt that he needed the blessing, and had come to 
camp meeting for that purpose. Whenever the invitation was 
given for those who wanted a clean heart, he would go forward 
and kneel down. But then the black woman would be in every 
meeting; would sing, or pray, or testify. He could not get on. 
Then the Holy Spirit had showed him the filthy use of tobacco, 
and he thought he never could give that up. He had used it 
from a boy ten years old; and he was now about sixty. He said he 
had never been without it a day all these years: and if he failed 
to get it on Saturday, he would go into a drug store on his way to 
church on Sunday morning and get it, and pay for it on Monday. 
What a slave! He was a ■ class-leader, and he said he felt he 
needed to be fixed up a bit. 

So he did. I should say. One morning under a powerful ser- 
mon by Rev. B. F. Pomeroy. of the Troy Conference, he was led 
to make a full surrender of himself. When Brother Pomeroy 
invited them forward, this man went. He had got the victory 
while praying in the woods, over his prejudice against me an hour 
or two before. But the tobacco stuck. He had it in his mouth, 
and when he knelt there the Spirit said to him, " Can you give up 
that tobacco?" And I saw him when he dug a hole in the straw 
and leaves and took his tobacco out of his mouth, put it down, 
covered it over and got on it with his knees: It was not long 
before the Lord poured in his heart the blessing of full salvation. 
My! how he shouted! 

It was a wonderful meeting that afternoon. The first thing 
he saw when he got up and stood on his feet, he said, was the 
colored woman standing on a bench with both hands up, singing 
"All I want is a little more faith in Jesus." And he said every 
bit of prejudice was gone, and the love of God was in his heart, 
and he thought I was just beautiful! 

I saw T him the next year, and he was still saved. And he sat 
down by me in the dining hall at the table and gave me two dol- 
lars: and he said the past year had been the best year of his life. 
Oh, how happy he was! God bless him. Amen. 

I think it was June 21, 1871. I remember the great railroad 
accident at Revier. I got into Boston from Martha's Vineyard. I 
was anxious to catch the five p. m. train. It left Boston, and 
stopped at Hamilton, about seven o'clock. Then the next train did 
not leave till seven thirty, and that would not arrive at the camp 



186 



Autobiography of 



meeting till about nine o'clock; and as I had never been there 1 
was anxious to get there as early as I could. But the man that I 
had got to take my trunk was late, and just as I had got into the 
station the train was moving out. 

44 Oh, my!" I said, "I wanted to go on that train." The 
porter said, "You are too late now." 

"When will the next one go out to the camp meeting? " 

"Seven thirty," he said, "and will arrive about nine o'clock." 

."Oh," I said, "I'm so sorry. I wrote I would be on that train." 

There were a number of persons who had come to say good-bye 
to loved ones, parents, and children, and friends; and as the train 
moved off, handkerchiefs were waved and kisses were thrown, 
and the last good-bye said, and the train passed out of the station, 
and I felt as though I would cry, I was so disappointed. But that 
disappointment saved my life. We left Boston on the next train, 
a lively company of camp meeting folks. A number were just 
going for the Sabbath. I met a number of friends who knew me, 
and we had some singing on the train, and I was feeling glad and 
happy, after all my disappointment. We went at full speed, and 
all at once the train suddenly stopped. We sang on and waited 
for it to start. We didn't know what the trouble was. A half 
hour passed; still we did not move on. Some of the men went out, 
and we thought when they came back we would know what the 
trouble was. Another half hour passed, and they did not come 
back. Then some of the women said, "Let's go out and see." 
So several of us got out and walked down the track and met sev- 
eral coming, who said there was a great accident at Revier. Our 
train had stopped about a mile away, this side of where the acci- 
dent occurred. 

I, with several others, walked to the scene, and as we drew near 
the fire was roaring, and the shouts for help and the groans of 
the dying and wounded were something beyond description. 
Revier was only a small way station; there was no drug store, and 
no houses to get any help from. They took off the doors of the 
few houses that stood round, and the shutters, and everything 
they could get hold of. Some were scalded; some were burned: 
others with broken limbs; and we were helpless; we had nothing. 
I could only weep and pray. I thought of the goodness of the 
Lord in not letting the man get my trunk in time, and then the 
words of this Psalm came to my mind with much force. * A 
thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right 



Amanda Smith. 



187 ■ 



hand: but it shall not come nigh thee." Oh. how I did praise my 
loving Father, God. 

They succeeded somehow in getting the track clear, and our 
train passed on. We arrived at the camp-ground between twelve 
and one o'clock at night. Sunday was a sad day, though many 
who were on the ground knew nothing of the accident, yet it 
seemed to cast a shadow. But the Lord was with us and helped. 
How well I remember some of the dear friends. My home was 
with Mrs. James Musso, in their pretty cottage. The lovely 
meetings we had! I remember Mrs. McGee, of Boston, and old 
Father Waite, of Ipswich. One day, going into the dining tent, he 
introduced me to the people as the "Fifteenth Amendment." 
That was the first I had heard of that bill. I also remember 
Father Snow, of Boston, Sarah and Laura Clapp, and dear Beenie 
Hamilton, and the wonderful tent meeting. She asked me to go 
with her to a little quiet meeting in a cottage. It was not to be a 
large meeting; only a few hungry ones who wanted help specially. 
The meeting was to be held only an hour: but we never closed it 
from half past two till six o'clock, and we could hardly close then; 
and if ever I saw God take hold of a meeting and control it, it was 
that afternoon. More than a score of souls were swept into the 
fountain of cleansing. Some people were convicted for pardon 
and for purity on the spot, and yielded to God, and God saved. 
Truly it was realized, "Knock and it shall be opened; seek and ye 
shall find; ask, and it shall be given you, for every one that asketh, 
receiveth; and he that seeketh, fmdeth; and to him that knocketh, 
it is opened." The most of the time I stood on my feet and 
exhorted, and sang, and talked, and prayed. When I got out and 
went to start home, I could scarcely walk. I was thoroughly 
exhausted. I had a cup of tea. and lay down a while, and was 
ready for another pitched battle. Glory to God! 

Those were wonderful days. One does not see it in that 
fashion now. Oh. how we need the mighty Holy Ghost power 
tha r . they had at Pentecost! 

" It was while they all were praying, 
It was while they all were praying, 
It was while they all were praying 
And believing it would come, 
Came the power, the power, 

Came the power that Jesus promised should come down.' 1 



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One day, just before the camp meeting closed, Rev. Dr. Cush- 
man, who was then Principal of the Ladies' Seminary at Auburn- 
dale, Mass., came to me and said: "Sister Smith, have you ever 
been to Lindenville, Vt. ? " I said, " No." 

"Well," said he, "that is my home, not far from there. Our 
camp meeting begins such a day (naming the day), and I believe 
the Lord would have you go to that meeting. I think you would 
do us good. I have to leave to-night," he continued, "or in the 
morning, but I will give you the directions how to come." So I 
told the Lord if He wanted me to go to Lindenville, and would 
give me the money, I would take that as an indication of His will. 
So the money came all right. 

On Tuesday morning, I think it was, I was off. I didn't stop 
to eat my breakfast; I thought I would wait till I got there. I 
left Hamilton about six a. m. for Boston, so as to get as early a 
train as I could. I had no idea where Vermont was, much less 
Lindenville. I was as green as a pea! I had never traveled any 
distance, and coming from New York to Boston, and then to 
Martha's Vineyard, was the biggest thing I had ever done. I 
expected to get to Lindenville about ten o'clock a. m. When I got 
to the station at Boston, I went to the ticket office and asked for a 
ticket to Lindenville, Vt. The man said, "You won't have time 
to get a ticket; the train is just moving out." I turned and said 
to the man, "Put on my trunk, quick! " 

He pitched it on, and I got on. I think it was the eight-fifteen 
train in the morning. When the conductor came I told him I 
didn't have time to get a ticket, so paid him what he asked. I 
said to him, " I didn't get my trunk checked; will you please look 
in the baggage car and tell me if you see such a trunk? " describing 
the trunk as best I could. In a little while he came through, and 
said, "Madame, there is so much baggage piled up that I cannot 
tell, exactly, but from the description you give I think it is there: 
it will be all right." So I was contented. Ten o'clock came, 
and I was not at Lindenville. Eleven o'clock — twelve o'clock — 
not yet. Then I began 4o get hungry. I saw no place where I 
could get even an apple. Then I wondered if I had not made a 
mistake after all. So the Devil thought this was his chance, and 
he assailed me fiercely: 

" You don't know if you are on the right train." 

"No," I said, " I do not." 



Amanda Smith, 



189 



"You ought not to have come without getting a ticket." 

"No," I said. "I suppose not." Then I thought. "Well. [ 
asked the Lord about it," and then he said. "You prayed, but 
you didn't pray enough." 

"Perhaps I didn't." I thought. 

Then a gentleman got in. and he looked very pleasant, and I 
thought I would ask him if I was on the right train to Linden- 
yille, Yt. So I went to him and said. "You will excuse me. sir, 
but I want to ask you if this is the train that goes to Linden- 
ville, Yt.?" 

He said very sharply. "I don't know." Then everybody 
seemed to look at me. All the people seemed so strange. It 
seemed to me I had never seen that kind of people before. And 
they seemed as though they had not seen many of my kind before.' 
My: how they stared at me! After a while a lady got on. and I 
thought I would ask her. And I said. " Madame, will you tell me 
if this train goes to Lindenville, Yt. 1 " 

She pulled herself up. and said. "I don't know." Then I 
thought I would ask the conductor, but he sailed through in such 
a rush that I couldn't ask him. Then the Devil said. " You think 
the Lord wanted you to go to Lindenville. Yt.; but if the Lord 
wanted you to go. somebody would know if you are on the right 
train, and be able to tell you." And I thought. "Yes. that is so: 
it does seem so." And imagine my surprise when I never got to 
Lindenville. Yt.. till six o'clock in the evening. But about four 
o'clock in the afternoon we stopped at a station, and Rev. Mr. 
Luce and his wife and children got on. and they spied me. and 
Brother Luce came up. and said, " Why, Amanda Smith, where 
are you going? " 

"To Lindenville, Yt., sir." 

"Well." said he. "we go as far as St. Johnsville. Then we 
are going up to Lindenville on Sunday to the camp meeting." 

I was so glad. Then he asked me if I had had anything to 
eat. I told him no, and they gave me some lunch, and that 
helped me. 

When we got to Lindenville, Dr. Cushan was there and met 
me at the station, and hunted for my trunk high and low: but he 
could not find it: there was no such trunk there. And I had to 
stay just with the clothes that I had on, and had traveled in. up 
till the next Saturday. 



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Well, we went to the camp meeting at Lindenville. We had 
a good time. The Lord blessed me very greatly. It was very 
primitive, but the people were very hearty and kind. 

I remember Rev. Mr. McCann was Presiding Elder, and had 
charge of the meeting, I shall never forget the lecture he gave 
me the morning I left. He was very much afraid that I would be 
spoiled; and I remember as I sat before him, he charged me with 
vehemence; when he told incidents where colored people had been 
made a good deal of, and how they came down, and how they 
were spoiled, and how it affected them, and hurt their influence. 
I smiled, and he went on with his charge. People pitied me for 
his great solicitude, and I felt that his labor was in vain. There 
I sat in the congregation, and it was his farewell remarks, as the 
camp meeting had closed that morning. I didn't know whether 
to stay for another camp meeting, or whether to go. Some laughed, 
and others seemed to feel sorry, I didn't know what to do; but I 
prayed mightily. But the Lord kept me, and none of these things 
have come upon me. How I praise Him! 

On Saturday we went to Boston. Dr. Cushan went to the 
store and got me some things to help me through Sunday. I was 
entertained at the home of Dr. Hopkins, of Auburndale. I spoke 
several times on Sunday. Sunday night we had a very precious 
meeting at the Methodist Church; so that I went home cheered 
in heart, though I had no trunk. I went to my room, and just as 
1 was getting ready for bed I thought to myself, 44 1 must make a 
very special prayer for my trunk." So I knelt to pray, and the 
words of John 15:7 came forcibly to my mind: " If ye abide in me, 
and my words abide in you, you shall ask what you will, and it 
shall be done unto you." And I said, "Now, Lord, here is Thy 
word, and as far as I know, I believe that I am abiding in Thee, 
and that Thy word is abiding in me. And now, Lord, I'm going 
to ask you about my trunk. Grant me this petition, that I will 
either get my trunk, or hear from it to-morrow." 

Then these words came to me: 44 If thou canst believe all 
things are possible with them that believe." And I said, 44 Lord, 
I believe I will get my trunk to-morrow." 

Just then Satan said, clearly, 44 That trunk has been gone a 
week, and you have hunted for it high and low, and Dr. Cushan, 
and Dr. Hopkins, and other friends, have looked for it; you 
have sent telegrams, and you have not heard a word of it; and 



Amanda Smith. 



191 



now, for you to say you believe you will get it to-morrow, is pre- 
sumption; and when people are sanctified and not presumptuous, 
they never say anything till they know it." 

And then I began to get a little frightened. I said, "Oh, 
Lord, Thou knowest I do not mean to be presumptuous. But 
somehow or other I believe I will get my trunk to-morrow; " and 
every time I said "I believe" to God, it seemed to me my faith 
was strengthened, and there was a sweet assurance and peace came 
over my spirit that did not come when the least shadow of doubt 
would try to enter my heart. But the Tempter harassed me. Oh, 
how he harassed me! I rose from my knees, and went over to the 
little stand in the corner, and I said, "Lord, give me some word 
to help me." Then I opened my Bible, and my eyes fell on these 
words; "A crooked and perverse generation seeketh after a sign, 
and there shall be no sign given them," and I shut the book, and 
said, " Lord, I don't want any sign. I believe I will get my trunk 
to-morrow." Then Satan seemed to leave me, and I went to bed 
in peace. I believed God all night. 

The first thing in the morning the thought of my trunk came 
into my mind, and I said, "Lord, I believe I will get my trunk to-day. " 

I didn't tell anybody. I just kept it before the Lord. I went 
down to breakfast. Dr. Hopkins was such a kind gentleman. He 
read the Bible for family prayer, then he knelt down to pray, and 
asked the Lord so earnestly about my trunk. I did not say any- 
thing to him about what I had believed upstairs. At breakfast he 
said, "Sister Smith, we will go to town this morning, and have 
another search for your trunk." This was Tuesday morning. 
They had hunted everywhere Monday, and had no tidings. 

When breakfast was over, he and I started for Boston. He 
said to me, "Now, Sister Smith, you can go to Miss Clapp's, and 
I will go to the baggage room and inquire if they have heard any- 
thing about your trunk." 

So I went on to Miss Clapp's, 19 Winter street. She was busy 
in the outer room, and told me to be seated in the parlor. I did 
so. After awhile she called out and said, " Sister Smith, have you 
heard anything about your trunk? " 

"No," I said. 

Then she in a very pleasant manner said, "Well, somehow I 
believe you will get it. I had a valise lost once, and it was gone 
three months, but I got it all right. " 



192 



Autobiography op Amanda Smith. 



I thought to myself, "Three months, indeed; I cannot wait 
three months; I want my trunk now." Still I did not tell her how 
I had believed in God. As I sat in the chair I threw my head 
back and began to sing this little hymn, that had been blessed so 
wonderfully of God to so many souls: 

" All I want, all I want, all I want, 
Is a little more faith in Jesus." 

I sang two verses; and as I was repeating the chorus of the 
last verse a knock came at the door, and as Miss Clapp was not in 
the room, I got up and went to the door: and when I opened it, 
there stood a great big Irishman, about six feet high, with my 
trunk. And as he wheeled it in, he said, "Here is a trunk for 
Amanda Smith," and I shouted, " Praise the Lord," and he looked 
as though he was frightened. He wheeled the trunk in and 
stepped back, and I said, " You needn't be afraid; I'm only believ- 
ing in God. That is all. Glory!" And he cut down stairs and 
I have never seen him since! 

Oh! how Satan tried to wrest my faith. But God stood by me 
as He stood by Joshua; so that when the Tempter comes in like a 
flood the Lord shall lift up a standard against him. "Fear not. 
Be strong and of good courage. Said I not unto thee if thou 
wouldst believe thou shouldst see the glory of God?" Amen. 
Amen. 



CHAPTER XV. 



MY EXPERIENCE AT DR. TAYLOR S CHURCH, XEW YORK, AND ELSE- 
WHERE — THE GENERAL CONFERENCE AT NASHVILLE — HOW 
I WAS TREATED AND HOW IT ALL CAME OUT — HOW THINGS 
CHANGE. 

I think it was in October, 1870, or 1871. It was when Miss 
Sarah Smiley, the Quakeress, was very popular. She was giving 
Bible readings at that time in different churches — Dr. Cuyler's 
Church in Brooklyn, at the Methodist Churches, and others. I 
was holding meetings at Twenty-fourth Street Methodist Church, 

with Rev. Dr. , and Miss Smiley was giving a series of Bible 

readings at Dr. Taylor's Church at the same time. Some ladies at 
Brooklyn, who had been attending the Twenty-fourth Street 
Church, came one evening and said to me, "Oh, Amanda Smith, 
have you been to hear Miss Smiley at Dr. Taylor's Church?" 
And I said, " Xo." 

"Well," they said, "she is to be there to-morrow afternoon, 
and it is to be her last Bible reading. It is on such a subject." 
naming the subject. " Oh, yesterday it was grand. I thought of 
you, and wished you were there. So I made up my mind I would 
come and tell you to-night, and maybe you could go to-morrow 
afternoon.'" 

I was not holding afternoon meetings, only evening meetings, 
myself, so I thanked them very kindly and thought I would go 
and hear Miss Smiley. So I did. I went early. There was quite 
a company gathered, though it was a half hour before the time. 
A number of gentlemen were present, and ladies whom I had met, 
some at Ocean Grove, others at Dr. Palmer's Tuesday meetings, 
and some of these ladies said to me, " Now, Amanda Smith, while 
we are waiting it would be nice if you would sing." 

The " Winnowed Hymns " were very popular then; they were 

(103) 



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Autobiography op 



new, and there were a number of pieces I knew very well. In 
those days I used to sing a great deal, and somehow the Lord 
always seemed to bless my singing. So these ladies were very 
anxious to have me sing. I told them I did not liKe to do so; I 
thought it might not be pleasant in this new church, and it was 
not a Methodist Church, and perhaps they might not like it. But 
they told me it would be all right. Several of these ladies were 
members of the church. They assured me that it would be no 
breach of propriety for me to sing. So when they urged me, I sang. 

The Lord blessed the singing. When I got through with one 
piece, they asked me to sing something else. They made the 
selections; I do not remember just now what they were, but I sang 
another piece. And while they were- selecting another piece, I 
said, "I think I had better not sing any more just now," and 
asked the Lord to help me and not let me be singing when Miss 
Smiley came in. I thought she might think I had put myself for- 
ward. And the Lord saved me from that mortification. 

The ladies were still urging me, and said they knew Miss 
Smiley would be rather pleased. But I did not feel so. So Miss 
Smiley came in when there was no singing going on. A minute 
or two later, as they were urging me so, I presume T would have 
been singing. Oh, how glad I was that the Lord had kept me. 

Miss Smiley got through with her Bible reading beautifully. 
It was very interesting, and everybody seemed to enjoy it. The 
gentlemen came up and shook hands with me, and thanked me for 
the singing. The ladies who were in thanked me for the singing, 
and as I was very near Miss Smiley, I thanked her for the address 
and told her how much it had helped me, but I thought she 
seemed rather cool. Then I was frightened, and sorry I had said 
anything to her. 

By and by I saw a lady, tall, with black hair and a very sal- 
low complexion, and a tremendous air, and a countenance not 
brightened by sweetness — but still, she passed. I saw this lady go 
up to Miss Smiley and begin talking to her, and I saw Miss Smiley 
shaking her head; but I did not know what it meant. 

I did not rush out through the ladies; I quietly waited and 
kept behind, so as not to be in the way; and after this lady turned 
away from Miss Smiley, she looked at me with a scowl and a look 
of contempt on her face. She stepped inside of a pew and beck- 
oned me and said, "Come here, come here." 



Amanda Smith. 



105 



So I went up to her with all the smiles ana grace I was capa- 
ble of, and she drew herself up in the most dignified manner and 
said, "Who told you to come here? " And she said it in such a 
tone that it frightened me. It went all over me, and I began to 
stammer — a thing I never do — and I tried to think of the name 
of the lady who had asked me — for I knew her very well — but to 
save me her name would not come. She was at the meeting, but 
had got to the door, and was speaking to some one; and I looked 

round and said, "Mrs. — — , Mrs. . " but I could not think of 

the name. I told her some ladies had told me about Miss Smiley's 
meeting, and I thought I would like to come and hear Miss 
Smiley. 

"Well," she said, "we have invited Miss Smiley here." 

"Oh," I said, " I beg your pardon, madame." 

"Never mind, pass right out, pass right out," she said, wav- 
ing her hand toward the door. 

"Oh." I said, "Madame — " and she said, "Pass out, pass 
out," and she drove me away. 

Some of the ladies were passing, and they said, "Oh, my, this 
is too bad." 

"What is the matter?" another said. And another, "Oh, 
that is a shame." "What is it?" 

By the time I got to the door there was so much sympathy 
and pity for me that they almost killed me. I cried, almost to 
convulsions. I was nearly dead. If they had not pitied me and 
seemed to feel so sorry for me, I could have got on well enough. 

I went up to Sixth avenue and got on the car, and some of the 
ladies got on the same car; and they sat down beside me and tried 
to comfort me, and they made it worse. I was ashamed of myself, 
but I could not help myself. It seemed to me I had lost all con- 
trol of my feelings. I cried about that thing for about two days, 
every time I thought of it. And it made quite a stir. The ladies 
came from downtown to see me about it, and to inquire about it. 
And I prayed so much for the woman, for I thought she needed to 
be prayed for, and I did pray for her with all my heart. So I 
think that she got the worst of it in the end! 

Sometimes people say to me. "Oh. Amanda Smith, how very 
popular you are." 

"Yes," I say, "but I paid for it." I paid a good price for my 
popularity. I don't know whether the lady is living or dead. I 



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Autobiography of 



have never seen her since. Poor thing, how I have pitied her! I 
suppose the Lord will get her through somehow. But that is the 
only time I was ever ordered out of a church from a religious 
meeting, or any other kind. 

Again, it was in 1870 or 1871, when my dear friend, Mrs. 
Hannah Whitehall Smith, was holding those marvelous Bible 
readings in Germantown and Philadelphia that God blessed so 
wonderfully. I had often heard them spoken of, and read of 
them, and thought how I would like to' go; but then I did not 
know whether they would allow colored persons to go. The Lord 
often would send me around among white people where there was a 
good meeting going on, that I might learn more perfectly some 
lesson from His Word. 

One day I was on my way to West Philadelphia when Mr. 
Robert Pearson Smith, who had been off in California, doing some 
evangelistic work, I believe, and had got home just a few days 
before, got on the car, and after he had sat down a little while he 
looked over and recognized me. He came and said, " I think t his 
is Amanda Smith?" I said, "Yes." He took a seat by me, and 
did not have any fear or embarrassment from my being a colored 
woman. How real, and kind, and true he was. He said, "Amanda 
Smith, has thee attended any of the meetings that my wife, 
Hannah, has been holding? " 

"No," I said, "I have thought I would like so much to go, 
but I did not know if they would allow colored persons to go." 

"Oh, yes, Amanda," he said, "there would be no objection 
to thee going, and T think thee would enjoy the meeting very 
much. God has wonderfully blessed Hannah, and scores of ladies 
of rank have been led to consecrate themselves to the Lord, and 
have realized great blessing. She will hold a meeting at 1018 
Arch street, on Friday. Thee must go." 

I thanked him very kindly, and told him I would do so. 

"Now," I thought to myself, "the Lord has answered my 
prayer, and opened the way for me, and no doubt He has some 
blessed lesson to teach me from His Word; for Mrs. Smith is such 
a wonderful Bible teacher." 

So I looked forward to Friday with great delight. When the 
day came I got ready and went, prayerfully. But somehow I 
seemed to have a little trembling come over me as I neared the 
corner of Tenth and Arch streets; and I said to myself, "T wonder 



Amanda Smith. 19? 

what is going to happen; my heart has become so sad all in a 
moment." 

Then I began to pray more earnestly that the Lord would help 
me and lead me. Sometimes these feeling of sadness, though unex- 
plainable, are the omen of a great blessing from God; at another 
time they may indicate disappointment and sadness, so that in 
either case God permits them, and prepares the heart by prayer to 
receive the blessing, or to endure the sorrow or disappointment. 
Praise His name for this. 

Just when I was about to turn the corner, I saw two ladies 
coming. I knew them, and they were on the way to the meeting. 
I thought, " I will let them pass, and I will follow close on behind, 
and go in just when they are fairly in." I always tried to avoid 
anything like pushing myself, or going where I was not wanted. 
And then I knew how sensitive many white people are about a 
colored person, so I always kept back. I don't think that anybody 
can ever say that Amanda Smith pushed herself in where she was 
not wanted. I was something like the groundhog; when he sees 
his shadow he goes in; I always could see my shadow far enough 
ahead to keep out of the way. But I thought as Mr. Pearson 
Smith had so kindly told me that it would be all right for me to 
go to this meeting, that I would not be intruding; no, certainly 
not. When these ladies got up to me, they stopped, and spoke to 
me very kindly; they said, " Well, Amanda Smith, how does thee 
do? Is thee going to the meeting? " 

" Yes," I said, "I have heard and read a good deal about the 
meeting, and I thought I would go to-day." 

I saw they looked a little nervous or queer, so I said to them, 
"I met Mr. Pearson Smith the other day, and he told me to go; 
there would be no objection, and the meetings were very wonder- 
ful in blessing, and he thought I would enjoy them." 

"Well, Amanda, "one of the ladies said,' "the meeting will be 
very full to-day, and there will be a great many very wealthy 
ladies in from Gemantown, and West Philadelphia, and Walnut 
Hills, and the meetings are especially for this class, and I think 
thee had better not go to-day; some other day would be better for 
thee." And then they politely bowed, and went on. 

I never said a word. I was dumbfounded; and there I stood. 
I thought, "How is this? I have been praying about this meet- 
ing ever since I saw Mr. Smith, and I have been expecting a real 



198 



Autobiography op 



feast to my soul to-day, and now these ladies feel it won't do for 
me to go, because I am a colored woman, and so many of the 
wealthy ladies will be there. They don't know but that the Lord 
may have sent a message to some of them through me." So I 
said, "I will linger about till I know the meeting is well begun, 
then I will go and stand at the door." 

Now I felt in my heart it was right to do this instead of going 
back home. I did so. " And after all it may be I may hear the 
word the Lord has for me; for He meant something by my com- 
ing." So I slipped in quietly and stood at the door; there were a 
number of others standing up. Just as Mrs. Smith was in the 
midst of her good Bible address, sure enough the Lord had a mes- 
sage for me, and 1 got a great blessing as I stood at the door. 
Praise the Lord! 

And now, the change is, instead of Amanda Smith, the col- 
ored washwoman's presence having a bad effect on a meeting 
where ladies of wealth and rank are gathered to pray and sing His 
blessing, they think a failure more possible if the same Amanda 
Smith, the colored woman, cannot be present. This is all the 
Lord's doings, and marvelous in our eyes. 

At the close of this meeting as the ladies were passing out, 
one and another came to me and spoke to me, and shook hands; 
"Why, this is Amanda Smith." 

"Yes." 

"Oh, here is Amanda Smith; why didn't you sing?" And 
another, "Oh, I have heard you." And another, "Oh, I wish you 
had sung such a piece." And another, " Why didn't you speak? " 
And another, " I have heard you sing such a piece at Ocean Grove 
at such a time, or at Round Lake." I was glad of this, for I 
thought, " After all, I have not spoiled the spirit of the meeting." 

But then, I was not so well known then, and many people 
were shy of me, and are yet. But I belong to Royalty, and am well 
acquainted with the King of Kings, and am better known and 
better understood among the great family above than I am on 
earth. But I thank God the time is coming, and we " Shall know 
each other better when the mists have rolled away." Hallelujah! 
Amen. 

In May, "70, or '71, the General Conference of the A. M. E. 
Church was held at Nashville, Tenn. It was the first time they 
ever held a General Conference south of Mason and Dixon's line. I 



Amanda Smith. 



199 



had beeD laboring in Salem, where the Lord first sent me, and 
blessed me in winning souls; the people were not rich: they gave 
me a home, and something to eat; but very little money. So, 
before I could get back to New York, my home, I took a service 
place, at Mrs, Mater's, in Philadelphia, corner of Coach and Brown 
streets, while her servant. Mary, went to Wilmington to see her 
child: she was to be gone a month, but she stayed five weeks: and 
now the Annual Conference was in session, at the A. M. E. Union 
Church, near by where I was. so I had a chance to attend. 

Th^ election of delegates to the General Conference the next 
year was a very prominent feature of the Conference; of course 
every minister wanted, or hoped to be elected as delegate. As I 
listened, my heart throbbed. This was the first time in ail these 
years that this religious bud}- of black men. with a black church 
from beginning to end, was to be assembled south of Mason and 
Dixon's line. 

But the great battle had been fought, and the victory won; 
slavery had been abolished: we were really free. There were en 
thusiastic speeches made on these points. Oh, how I wished I could 
go: and a deep desire took possession of m^; but then, who was I? I 
had no money, no prominence at that time, except being a plain 
Christian woman, heard of and known by a few of the brethren, 
as a woman preacher, which was to be dreaded by the majority, 
especiallv the upper ten. Fortunately I had a good friend in 
Bishop Campbell, knowing him so well years before he was elected 
to this office. Also Bishop Wayman, Bishop Brown, and Bishop 
Quinn. were friends of mine. I believe I always had their sym- 
pathy and friendship. But there was no opportunity for me to 
speak to them personally. So I ventured to ask one of the breth- 
ren, who had been elected delegate, to tell me how much it would 
cost to go to Nashville; I would like to go if it did not cost too 
much. 

He looked at me in surprise, mingled with half disgust: the 
very idea of one looking like me to want to go to General Confer- 
ence; they cut their eye at my big poke Quaker bonnet, with not 
a flower, not a feather. He said, 4 4 1 tell you, Sister, it will cost 
money to go down there: and if you ain't got plenty of it, it's no 
use to go: " and turned away and smiled; another said: 

11 What does she want to go for? " 

" Woman preacher: they want to be ordained," was the reply. 



200 



Autobiography of 



" I mean to fight that thing," said the other. "Yes, indeed, 
so will I," said another. 

Then a slight look to see if I took it in. I did; but in spite 
of it all I believed God would have me go. He knew that the 
thought of ordination had never once entered my mind, for I had 
received 1 my ordination from Him, Who said, "Ye have not chosen 
Me, but I have chosen you, and ordained you, that you might go 
and bring forth fruit, and that your fruit might remain." 

I spoke to some of the good sisters who were expecting to go; 
they said they did not know what it would cost. So I went home, 
and prayed, and asked the* Lord to help me; and the conviction 
that I was to go deepened, and yet it seemed so impossible. Just 
before the Conference closed I ventured to ask another good 
brother, who had been elected delegate, and whom I knew very 
well, and he was so nice, I thought he would tell me. "Brother 
S.," I said, "how much do you think it will cost 9 " This was the 
uppermost thought then — the cost to go to Nashville. "Oh, my 
sister," he replied, "I don't know; it will take all of a hundred 
dollars; " and with a Significant toss of the head shot through the 
door, and I saw him no more till I met him next year at Nashville; 
and that was a surprise, but he managed to speak to me, as we 
both stopped at the Sumner House, and sat at the same table. 

I was quite a curiosity to most of the visitors, especially the 
Southern brethren, in my very plain Quaker dress; I was eyed 
with critical suspection as being there to agitate the question of 
the ordination of women. All about, in the little groups that 
would be gathered talking, could be heard, "Who is she?" 

"Preacher woman." 

"What does she want here?" 

"I mean to fight that thing." 

"I wonder what day it will come up?" 

Of course, I was a rank stranger to most of them; the bishops, 
and all those whom I did know, had all got there before me, and 
were settled, and I was not going to trouble them for anything. 
Then those of the ladies whom I knew, wives of ministers or 
bishops, were dressed to the height of their ability; I could not 
rank with them; so I was all alone; "And His brethren did not 
believe in Him." " The servant is not above his Lord." 

No one but God knows what I passed through the first three 
days. God, in answer to prayer, had marvelously opened my way 



Amanda Smith. 



201 



to go; through the kindness of my dear friend, Mrs. Kibbey, of 
Albany, X. Y., who is now in Heaven, I had my outfit; a pretty 
tan dress, with a drab shawl and bonnet to match. I thought I 
was fine; but bless you, I found I did not shine in that land, worth 
a nickel; for my people, as a rule, like fine show. 

Before I left New York for Xashville, I had heard that the 
bishops were to have a certain number of tickets at reduced rates; 
so I wrote Bishop Campbell and asked him if he would get me a 
ticket. About two weeks after, he w r as passing through New York, 
and called to see me, and explained the matter. How very kind 
he was. God bless his memory. I gave him the money — thirty 
some dollars — and in a day or two he sent me the ticket. Xow I 
thought I was all right, and so thanked the Lord. He had 
answered prayer up to this time in all that I had asked. 

I was expecting when I got to Philadelphia to find several 
ladies who had told me they were expecting to go without fail; 
but when I got there, there was but one lady — Sister Burley — and 
her husband; there w r ere about twenty or thirty preachers, and 
just two ladies. 

Poor Sister Burley was glad I was going, as she was alone; 
and I was glad she was going, as 1 was alone. She and I kept 
together as much as her husband would allow her; Brother Burley 
was a remarkably selfish man, and stout accordingly; if he dropped 
his handkerchief his wife must be by him to catch it before it 
touched the ground, or pick it up immediately, or get him a clean 
one. 

Of course, I was only a visitor. We arrived three days before 
the opening of the Conference. This was to give all the delegates 
time to get in. I thought I would have no difficulty in getting a 
place to stop, and, perhaps, it would not have been so bad if I had 
been more stylish looking. 

We arrived, I think, about two p. M. Friday; we were driven 
to a large church where tickets were given with the name and 
address where each one was to stop, Xow, there were five or six 
ladies, but none whom I kneAv; they seemed to eye me sharply, 
but took no further notice; by and by, plans were settled, and two 
or three of these ladies, and six or eight ministers got in a 'bus and 
were taken to their places. I inquired of those who had charge, 
but they said they only had the names of those who were dele- 
gates. Poor me; I almost cried, and was tempted to wish I had 
not come. 



202 



Autobiography of 



Sister Burley felt sorry for me, and asked her husband if he 
could not help me; but he said I ought not to have come without 
knowing something about things before I came. 

"That is so," I replied; "but I am quite prepared to pay for 
my board, if I can find a boarding house." 

By this time the 'bus was there again, and the next crowd 
were off to their lodgings; a few minutes more and another 'bus 
came, and my only friend, Sister Burley, was gone. It was then 
almost five o'clock; the 'bus came the last time; the man asked 
me where I was going; I told him I did not know. 

"This is the last load, and you had belter get in; I take these 
people to the Sumner House; when you get there they might be 
able to tell you where to go." 

I thanked him, and got in. When we got there I saw Mrs. 
Sumner and told her how it was; she said they were full, but it' I 
would put up with it she would do the best she could. God bless 
her. I thanked her, and thanked the Lord. She was so kind and 
motherly. 

Now, all that time no one had paid the slightest attention to 
me, any more than if I had not been in the world; they were all 
strangers to me, and full of excitement; so I was quite alone. 

T would walk out in the afternoon alone, and to and from 
church alone. Several times I got ready in time and called at the 
parlor and asked if any of the ladies were ready; "not yet," was 
the usual answer; so I would walk on. After awhile, in the great- 
est style, would come these ladies with the good brethren. 

The early mornings and the evenings were quite pleasant; so 
Monday evening, about six o'clock, I thought I would take a little 
Walk; and, without knowing it, I got on the street leading to the 
Fisk University. As I walked on I saw a lady coming toward me; 
she began to smile; I thought, " I ought to know that face, but 
who is it? " She came up to me and said: 

"Is not this Mrs. Amanda Smith 

"Yes," I said. 

"Oh, how do you do?" she said; "I'm so glad to see you. 
We just got home a few days ago, and we were talking about, you 
last night; we were all in the parlor having a little sing, and we 
were speaking of the piece you sang with us in Music Hall, 
Boston." 

"Oh," I said, "the Jubilee Singers." Just then I recognized 



Amanda Smith. 



203 



her. "Why, am I anywhere near Fisk University, where the 
Jubilee Singers came from?" 

44 Yes," she said, "we are just out such a place; and you must 
come out and see us. Professor White is going to invite the Con- 
ference out on Wednesday, and you must come." 

This was Miss Ella Sheppard, now Mrs. Moore, wife of the 
faithful pastor of Lincoln Memorial Church, Washington, D. C. 

When the time came there was quite an excitement about who 
was going. Carriages were engaged; I offered to pay for a seat in 
one, but there was no room; I sent out and ordered my own car- 
riage, and paid for it myself. 

While I was getting ready, a certain brother took a lady and 
put her in my carriage; when I went out to get in, he said, laugh- 
ingly, " Mrs. Smith, Miss So and So and I want to go, and as you 
have room in your carriage, .1 thought we would get in; " but 
neither of them offered to pay a cent. I had half a mind not to 
allow it; but it was a good chance to return good for evil. 

When we got there the good brother, being a minister, took 
his ladv and passed quite up in front and was seated. I took a 
seat where I could get it, back in the congregation. One or two 
of the bishops were on the platform, together with a number of 
ministers, and the fine choir of the Jubilee Singers. 

The meeting was opened in the usual way — an address by one 
of the bishops, then a song by the choir, singing as they could 
sing. Miss Sheppard spied me in the audience, and told Prof. 
White. He looked and looked, and could not see me at first. Then 
he went and spoke to Miss Sheppard again. Then she pointed out 
the plain bonnet. Then he spied me and quickly came down and 
shook hands, and was so glad. They all looked astonished. Hold- 
ing me by the hand, he escorted me to the platform and intro- 
duced me to the large audience, who, in the midst of overwhelming 
amazement, applauded. Then the good professor told how they 
had met me in Boston, and how T sang the grand old hymn, "All 
I want is a little more faith in Jesus," and what a burst of enthu- 
siasm it created. And of all the surprised and astonished men and 
women you ever saw, these men and women were the most so. 

While he was making these remarks, I prayed and asked God 
to help me. Then he said, "Pm going to ask Mrs. Smith to sing 
that same song she sang at Boston, and the Jubilee Singers will 
join in the chorus." 



204 



Autobiography of Amanda Smith. 



If ever the Lord did help me, He helped me that day. And 
the Spirit of the Lord seemed to fall on all the people. The 
preachers got happy. They wept and shouted " Amen* ' " Praise 
the Lord!" At the close a number of them came to me and shook 
hands, and said, "God bless you, sister. Where did you come 
from? I would like to have you come on my charge." Another 
would say, "Look here, sister, when are you going home? God 
bless you. I would like to have you come to my place." And so 
it went. So that after that many of my brethren believed in me, 
especially as the question of ordination of women never was 
mooted in the Conference. 

But how they have advanced since then. Most of them believe 
in the ordination of women, and I believe some have been ordained. 
But I am satisfied with the ordination that the Lord has given me. 
Praise His name! 

I had no trouble after I had Prof. White's and Prof. Spence's 
kind recognition, and I had the pleasure of spending a week or 
more at the University with those good people. And as I would 
talk at several of the meetings, the Lord blessed the dear teachers 
and students I also spent a week at Dr. Braden's. They were 
very kind, and the Lord gave us blessing in some meetings. They 
have done, and are doing, a grand work among my people. May 
God bless them all. 

I give this little story in detail, to show that even with my 
own people, in this country, I have not always met with the pleas- 
antest things. But still I have not backslidden, nor felt led to 
leave the church. His grace has ever been sufficient. And all we 
need to-day is to trust Him. 

" Simply trusting every day, 
Trusting through the stormy way, 
Even when my faith is small, 
Trusting Jesus, that is all." 



CHAPITER XVI. 



HOW I GOT TO KNOXVILLE, TEXN. , TO THE NATIONAL CAMP MEETING; 
AND WHAT FOLLOWED. 

It was in September, 1872, just after the camp meeting at 
Williamsville. When I went to Williamsville I had not thought 
anything about going to Knoxville. But while there a number of 
the friends thought I ought to go to Knoxville. Well, I hadn't 
prayed anything about it, so didn't know. I stayed with Mr. and 
Mrs. Little, who had charge of the book store. There was a Rev. 
Mr. Ford, who was Presiding Elder, or Pastor, of the Methodist 
Church at Knoxville. He was making the arrangements about 
* the camp meeting, and about Brother Inskip's coming to Knoxville. 

One day I came in and they were talking, and Mrs. Little said 
to me, a little while after, that she was not feeling at all pleased 
at some things she had heard them say, and that she did not care 
to go. "But," she said, "Henry is going, and I suppose I will 
have to go. " 

"What is it?" I said. 

" Why," she said, "they don't want you to go, and say it will 
not do if you go, at all." 

"Why," I said, "I was not thinking about going. I have not 
asked the Lord anything about going, and I do not know as He 
wants me to go/' 

"Well," she said, " I would like to have you go, but then it is 
down South, and they are afraid it will hurt their meeting if 
you go." 

"I would not go for anything/' I said. " I am so anxious for 
everybody to get the blessing of sanctification, I don't want to go 
and hinder anybody, not for the world." 

At dinner time I went up to the tent of the lady who had 
invited me to dinner. When I got there I found dear Sister Inskip 

(205) 



206 



Autobiography of 



and several others talking over the matter. Sister Inskip was so 
true and outspoken. Some were insisting that I should go, and 
were willing to pay my expenses. Dear Sister Inskip turned to 
me, and said, "It would be very nice to have Sister Amanda go, 
but we think too much of her to have her go down there and not 
be treated properly, so we hope she won't go." 

Then I began to think there was more in what Mrs. Little 
said than I had at first thought. So I said, " I want everybody to 
get blessed, and I don't want to unless the Lord wants me 
to go." 

So there was not any more said directly about it. But some- 
how after that I got a very deep conviction that I was to go. I 
was sorry, for I thought, "Now, if I go after what Sister Inskip 
has said, I am afraid they will think I have done it imperti- 
nently." 

That night dear Brother Wells preached. It was on Saturday 
night. I heard a little of the sermon. Up to that time it had 
been pretty uphill work. There was a great deal of opposition on 
the subject of holiness all through that part of Illinois, that had 
grown out of some very grave inconsistencies on the part of some 
who had been prominent in the profession and exposition of this 
great and blessed truth. 

There was a great deal of earnest praying to be done. The 
Lord helped Brother Wells to preach, but I got under such dread- 
ful conviction about the way they were feeling about my going to 
Knoxville, that I left and went down in the woods. It was dark, 
very dark, and I got down by a big log and asked the Lord if He 
would make it clear to me whether I was to go to Knoxville. If 
He said "Go," all right. 

"But, Lord, I want to know. I don't want to hinder anybody 
from getting the blessing; and if my going w T ill hinder anybody, or 
hinder this blessed work, I don't want to go. Now make it so 
clear what Thy will is in the matter that I will not be mistaken. 
And now, Lord, I ask thee for this evidence. If it is thy will for 
me to go, put it into somebody's heart to get me fifty dollars." 

The rest of the people, who were invited to go to help in the 
work, had their expenses provided; but they didn't provide any 
for me, for the reason I have already said. So I thought I would 
ask the Lord for this great sum, for I thought fifty dollars was a 
great deal to ask for, and if I would ask for that much I would 



'Amanda Smith. 



207 



probably not get it; and if I did not get it, of course I would not 
have to go. But while I was praying, these words came to me; 
"All things are possible to him that believeth. " And I said, 
44 Lord, I believe, if you will give me the money, you want me to 
go." And I felt it settled. 

Just as I went to get up from my knees, a suggestion ]ike this 
came: 

" You know the Kuklux are down there, and they might kill 
you." 

Then I knelt down again, and thought it all over; and I said, 
"Lord, if being a martyr for Thee would glorify Thee, all right; 
but then, just to go down there and be butchered by wicked men 
for their own gratification, without any reference to Thy glory, I'm 
not willing. And now, Lord, help me. If Thou dost want me to 
do this, even then, give me the grace and enable me to do it." 

Then these words came: "My grace is sufficient for thee." 
And I said, "All right," and got up. 

I came up to the tent where I was staying, at Mrs. Little's, 
with perfect triumph. I never said a word to her, or to anyone. 

On Sunday morning at the eight o'clock meeting, which was 
always a very grand meeting, I arose, and the Lord led me to 
relate my experience; how the Lord sanctified my soul; and the 
Holy Spirit seemed to fall on the people in a very powerful manner 
as I related my experience. And the Spirit said to one lady, " Get 
Amanda Smith fifty dollars to go to Knoxville." 

This lady was the wife of a minister, Rev. Mr. Gardner. She 
had had a wonderful struggle for the blessing of a clean heart, and 
she told the Lord when she was consecrating herself to Him, that 
she would do anything He told her. So when the Spirit suggested 
this to her, she said, "I'll do it," 

This she told me afterward. I did not know anything about 
it at the time. 

There was a Mrs. Reeves, of Girard, O., there, and her friend, 
a Mrs. Smith, who had come with her; I had met Mrs. Reeves 
before, at L T rbana, O., and so knew her, and had been at her home. 
She said to me on Sunday afternoon, just after the afternoon 
preaching was over: 

"Mrs. Smith and I are going down to Springfield to see 
Lincoln's monument tomorrow morning; we want to start away 
about eight o'clock: wouldn't you like to go': " 



208 



Autobiography of 



"Oh, I was delighted. I didn't know this was anywhere in 
the region where Lincoln's monument was. Of course I was glad 
of the opportunity, and went with them. We were gone all day. 
I went up into the top of the monument and wrote on the wall, 
4 4 Rock of Ages." 

I shall never forget that wonderful scene to me. I had never 
seen anything like it before in my life. 

After we had visited round and seen what we could, we came 
back, and got back to the campground about half-past five o'clock. 
Brother and Sister Inskip, with a number of the other brethren 
and friends, had been invited to Mrs. Blank's tent to tea. Mrs. 
Little and I had been invited also. When I got there they were 
just through tea, and they said, "Oh, Mrs. Smith, we have been 
waiting for you, but we could not wait any longer." 

"Oh, I'm so glad; I just this minute got here." 

Mrs. Inskip was just going off to take charge of the Young 
People's Meeting; she said, " As soon as you are through, Mrs. 
Smith, I want you to come down and help me in the Young Peo- 
ple's Meeting." 

I noticed that a number of these young people kept smiling 
and laughing, and I could not tell what was up. 

So Mrs. Inskip went on, and I sat down to have my tea. Then 
I noticed several of the gentlemen and ladies, and they talked and % 
smiled, and I said, "What is up? You all seem to be so happy." 

"Oh, well, Mrs. Smith," they said, "never mind; when you are 
through, come into the tent; we want to see you before you go to 
Mrs, Inskip's meeting." 

They had a long table spread in the rear of the tent, in the 
old-fashioned camp meeting style, loaded with good things. 

Now I had not breathed to a soul what I had prayed about. 
No one knew but God the prayer I prayed in the woods on Satur- 
day night before. When I got through my supper I went into the 
tent; and after a little pleasant passing of words, a gentleman 
arose and said, "Well, Sister Smith, Sister Gardner, and some 
other ladies, have got a little purse for you, and they want me to 
present it to you, for you to go to Knoxville;" then handing it over 
to me, he presented me with fifty dollars and fifty-five cents. 

Well, there was my money for Knoxville. Mrs. Gardner told 
me she could have got a hundred dollars just as easy as she got 
the fifty; but the word of the Lord to her was, "Get Amanda 
Smith fifty dollars to go to Knoxville." 



Amanda Smith. 



209 



I didn't go till the meeting had been in session about three 
days. I thought I would give them a chance to see what the 
results were before I got there, and what the bad effects might be 
after I got there. But the Lord was on my side, now may Israel 
say, to give me a clear assurance, and to make it plain to others, 
that I had not gone myself, but that He had sent me. 

It was terribly uphill during those three days. Prejudice 
againsi the doctrine was strong. There had been some blessing, 
but not what they called a break. And yet there were some that 
were a little afraid that any little indication that had been seen, 
would be retarded by my appearance. So some of the good folks 
said, when they heard that I was on the ground, they were very 
sorry, for I must not expect to be treated as I was treated at 
home; meaning the North; poor things! 

I went straight to Sister Little's, for she told me if I did come, 
to come right to them; they would have room in their tent. They 
generally had a large tent, for it was the book store, and a kind of 
general office. And I had my bed-tick, and would generally get it 
filled, and then my sheet and quilt and pillows, I took along 
myself; so at night, when the office was closed, we put up the 
partition, and I made my bed down on the floor, and it was beau- 
tiful. Then, I was up always early in the morning so as to be out 
of the way before the time to open the office and book store. 

It was Saturday, about two o'clock, I think, when I got there. 
When the afternoon service was over, I saw dear Brother Grey, of 
Philadelphia, standing talking very earnestly to a brother. I did 
not know who the minister was; but they were very close to 
Brother Little's tent, and I saw that Brother Grey made several 
attempts to get away, and every way he would start this brother 
would get in ahead of him and hinder him. I knew Brother Grey, 
and knew he was a good man, and I felt sorry for him. At last I 
said to Sister Little, "Who is that man talking to Brother Grey?'' 

" Oh," she said, "that is Rev. Mr. So and So," calling him by 
name. " He is arguing on the subject of holiness. He is terribly 
bitter against the doctrine." 

" What," I said, " and a preacher, too? " 

" Yes," she said, " and he has had Brother Grey pinned up 
against that tree for more than an hour. I believe he is in some 
real estate business now, down South here. He is not in the regu- 
lar ministry." 



210 



Autobiography of 



"Well," Isaid, "the Lord bless him. We will have to pray 
him loose." 

I don't know when he let poor Brother Grey off, but I know it 
was very late; almost time for the evening service to commence. 

I do not know who preached Saturday night, but my heart 
was burdened in prayer. On Sunday morning at eight o'clock, 
Brother Little was lead the Love Feast service. I was very glad 
Brother Little had charge of that meeting, as I knew he would not 
hinder me from speaking as the Lord might lead. Brother Tnskip 
preached at eleven. So the Lord laid it on my heart very heavily 
that I was to relate my personal experience of how the Lord led 
me into the blessing of entire sanctification. 

The brother that had been talking and arguing so with Brother 
Grey sat way back in the congregation. It was in the big tent; I 
shall never forget it. There was a side where the colored people 
all sat, specially. So I sat on that side, quite near the front, and 
I kept looking to the Lord to indicate to me when he wanted me 
to talk. The testimonies and songs went on. There was a beau- 
tiful spirit in the meeting. Finally the time came when the Spirit 
bade me speak. I arose; a good brother from Philadelphia, I for- 
get his name, sat very near me, and he was watching this brother 
that had been such an opponent; so, as I related how the Lord 
had led me, and my struggles and difficulties, the Lord blessed me 
and gave me great liberty in speaking. My! how my soul tri- 
umphed. The Spirit of God seemed to fall on the people; it took 
hold of this brother; I suppose I talked about fifteen minutes, and 
when I got through I had not more than taken my seat when this 
brother sprang to his feet, and holding up his hand he said: 

" Hold on, brethren, hold on, hold on! " and walked to the front, 
weeping like a child. Oh! how he wept! " I want to say one word." 

The shouts and amens and hallelujahs were full and free. The 
brother turned round and faced the congregation, straightened 
himself up, and braced himself, so as to control his feelings till he 
could get a start. Finally he said, "Brethren, I have been a 
Methodist preacher for so many years; I was converted at such a 
time; I entered the ministry," etc. " I have had a great deal of 
prejudice against these brethren coming here, and I have fought 
this subject of holiness." And he went on with his confession. 
But such a confession! And he ended by saying, " This colored 
sister, who has given us her experience, God bless her." Tlr n he 



Amanda Smith. 



21 i 



came over and took hold of my hand and said " Lord bless you, 
sister/' Then he finished his testimony, as follows: 

"When I heard this colored sister tell how God had led her 
and brought her into this blessed experience, the darkness swept 
away and God has saved me, and I see the truth as I never did 
before. Glory to God." 

Oh! what a shout! From that time the tide rose and swept 
on. The last night of the meeting came, and I was in Sister 
Little's tent. It was eleven o'clock at night. Sister Little had 
not been very well, and I was getting ready for bed; but the cur- 
tain was down, and I was sitting by Sister Little's bed talking 
with her and rubbing her arm. Brother Inskip did not know I 
was in the tent, and he came in; and I heard him say to Brother 
Little, "We have had a grand day; the Lord has been with us; 
and, after all, I was mistaken in not wanting Sister Smith to 
come. I tell you, Brother Little, God sent her." 

And Sister Little wanted to say. "Amanda Smith is here 
now; " but I said, "No, no, don't say it: don't let him know it." 
This I heard with my own ears: and I would not let Sister Little 
call Brother Inskip. God bless him, for I know he only wished 
me well, and his only reason for thinking I should not go, was for 
my own good, and that of the meeting as well. But how far God's 
ways are above our ways, and His thoughts above our thoughts. 
It is safe to obey always, even though you may not always be able 
to explain. Amen. Amen. 

I remained a few days in town, and held some meetings with 
my own people, which the Lord greatly blessed. Quite a revival 
broke out, and a number were converted. On Saturday afternoon, 
after the close of the camp meeting, I was dowm street doing a 
little shopping. On my way home I heard singing in the Presby- 
terian Church, though I didn't know it was a Presbyterian Church, 
then. The singing was beautiful: it sounded so much like home. 
They were singing that dear old hymn! "Jesus, Lover of my 
Soul," to the old tune. I listened, and wanted to go in. but did 
not dare to. The church was on the same block with the Metho- 
dist Church. I said to myself, "If I didn't have this parcel I 
would go in." 

Just opposite, on the other side of the street, a colored nurse 
girl was out in the yard with a little child. I said to her, "What 
kind of a church is that where they are singing so? " 



212 



Autobiography of 



" 1 don't know," she said, "but I think it is a Presbyterian." 

" I would go in if I didn't have these parcels." 

" I will keep them for you," she said; " I will be out here with 
the child for some time." 

So I handed her my parcels, and I went into the church. 
When I went to go in, there lay right across the door a large New- 
foundland dog. I stood for a minute, and I thought, "Well, he 
must be a pretty good sort of a dog to be at church on Saturday 
morning." I touched him with my foot. He quietly lifted his 
head, looked at me, and lay down again, and I stepped over him 
and went in and sat down on a seat just behind the door. The 
first thing that struck me was the face of the minister; it was as 
radiant as a sunbeam. How beautiful! His name was McEwen. 
After he had given out some notices he announced his text, Isa. 
35:8: " A highway shall be there, and a way, and it shall be 
called the way of holiness," etc. And he preached a straight, 
clear, orthodox holiness sermon; and the Spirit of the Lord came 
upon him and upon all the people. He was not demonstrative; 
calm, but, Oh, deep and powerful! The people wept and sobbed. 
I wanted to shout "Glory to Jesus;" but I said, "Oh, Lord, help 
me, and hold me still; " for I knew they were not used to any such 
thing, and it would have embarrassed the minister and confused, 
if not frightened, the people; and the only good it would have 
done, if any, at that time, would have been to me only. 

So the Lord turned the big gush of praise into oil, and a wave 
of blessing passed so sweetly over my soul. Oh! it was like honey 
and oil mingled. It was indescribably beautiful, and sweet and 
heavenly. I shall never forget it. Praise the Lord! 

When the meeting closed the people passed out. I heard 
some ladies say, "What in the world was the matter with Mr. 
McEwen? I never heard him preach so before." 

' 'Oh, wasn't that a wonderful sermon ?" said one. And another 
said: 

" I think he has been to that holiness camp meeting." 

And so he had, and had found the pearl of greatest price, 
even the blessing of a clean heart. 

A lady came up to me and said so kindly (for they did not 
seem to be surprised to see me), "You are Amanda Smith? " 

"Yes." 

" I saw you at the camp meeting the other day. Our min- 
ister has got the blessing." 



Amanda Smith. 



213 



"Yes," I said, " I know the ring." 

" We have been praying for him for five years. He's such a 
beautiful spirit, you would enjoy meeting him." 

So she appointed an afternoon, and I went to her house, and 
what a blessed afternoon 1 spent in her parlor, and that at Knox- 
ville, Tenn. I sang for them, and prayed, and told them how the 
Lord led me into the blessed soul rest after years of wandering. 
And I believe he Lord made it a farther blessing to this dear- 
minister. 

So Mrs. McEwen, the lady who had invited me to her house, 
(for that was her name, though she and the minister were no rela- 
tion to each other), and who was a beautiful Christian lady, told 
me that she had got the blessed experience of full salvation some 
years before, reading Mrs. Phebe Palmer's book, "The Way of 
Faith;" and for years she had taken "The Guide to Holiness." 
She said there was not one in their church, when she sought and 
found the blessing; but that there were two other ladies, friends 
of hers, and members of the same church, who, like herself, 
longed for a deeper experience, and their custom was to meet 
once a week, and pray for the minister, and pray for themselves. 

One day she went alone into her garret, so as to be away from 
every one, and there, as she knelt and prayed, the Lord seemed to 
open the windows of Heaven to her soul, and she was flooded with 
light and peace. She said; "I was so filled, I praised the Lord 
at the top of my voice. I came down and put on my things and 
went to see my dear Mrs. Blank. She was delighted; and we had 
a good time rejoicing together. A few days later she came out 
clear. Then the other. Now, we must still pray more earnestly 
for our minister, that he may see the truth and get the blessing." 
She said he was such a good man, and everyone liked him; but 
still there was a lack of real unction in his preaching. But she 
said all these } T ears they never breathed it to him that they were 
praying for him. She had told him about the "Guide," and 
given him a copy several times when he made his pastoral call, 
but every week for five long years these ladies met and prayed for 
their minister, and kept quiet, and now the answer had come. 
Oh, how full of delight and joy they were! 

I think there might be similar results if there were more pray- 
ing in the closet for the preacher. Don't talk much, but united, 
pray. 



214 Autobiography of Amanda Smith. 



"Pray, if thou canst or canst not speak, 
But pray with faith in Jesus' name." 

She said about a year or two after she had got the experience 
her husband failed in business, and they lost nearly everything 
they had. But she said " The Lord kept me so quiet in my soul; 
and I believe but for this grace I never could have gone through 
what I did." She said her husband could not understand it, and 
sometimes he would feel vexed with her because she did not 
worry. "He said I seemed as though I did not care. But Oh, 
how I had to hold on to God for him. It seemed he would lose his 
mind at times. Praise the Lord, He kept me. Oh, Sister Smith, 
what deep waters God brought me through. How true His 
Word." 

" Many shall be purified, 
And made white and tried; 
But the hand that purifies, 
Tries." 

So we are quite safe. Only hold still. Amen. 



CHAPTER XVII. 



SEA CLIFF CAMP MEETING, JULY, 1872 — FIRST THOUGHTS OF AFRICA 
— MAZIE'S EDUCATION AND MARRIAGE — MY EXPERIENCE AT 
YARMOUTH. 

Persons often ask me how I came to think of going to Africa. 
While at this camp meeting I had my home at Mrs. Battershell's. 
Their beautiful cottage was the finest and largest there at that 
time. Mrs. Battershell was a cousin of Mrs. Inskip's. She had 
told me when I came to Sea Cliff she wanted the privilege of enter- 
taining me at her new cottage, so I had a very pretty little room 
all to myself, and went in and out as I chose. 

One day during the camp meeting they had a mission day, 
and as there were different speakers, some from India, some from 
China, some from Japan, and some from South America, I think, 
I went to the meeting. I heard all the speakers, and was very 
much interested in the meeting. 

Just as they were about to close the meeting there came up a 
little shower of rain, and as I had no umbrella, I hurried out and 
on to my cottage. The meeting had made an impression on my 
mind, and as I walked along I kept thinking of what I had heard, 
and all at once it came to me that I had not heard them say anything 
about Africa, Then I remembered when I was quite young I had 
heard my father and mother talk about Africa. I remembered, 
too. that T used to see a large paper, away back in the forties, 
called "The Brother Jonathan Almanac," something like the 
Frank Leslie. Tt had large pictures, and Africans in their cos- 
tumes and huts, and Indians in their wigwams, great boa con- 
strictors, bears, lions and panthers; and some of the pictures were 
horrid, as I remember them now. 

Well, all the old farmers round about where we lived used to 
take those papers, and once in awhile father would bring home 
one of them for us children to look at, and my good mother would 

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Autobiography of 



always see that it was not torn to pieces. So we had it to look at 
for a time, then she would carefully fold it up and put it away. I 
remember what a treat it was when she would say we could have 
it to look at again. We would spread it on the floor, and then all 
of us children would get down, and what times we would have 
over "Brother Jonathan." 

So as I was walking along now, thinking of this missionary 
meeting, I heard some one call out, "Amanda Smith," and I 
turned, and a lady overtook me and said as she came up to me; 

"Well, Amanda Smith, how did you like the meeting?" 

" It was very nice, and I liked it. But I did not hear them 
say a word about Africa, and I have been wondering if all the 
people in Africa are converted. I remember hearing father and 
mother talk about them a long time ago, but I have not heard any- 
thing of them since, and I was wondering." 

She smiled, and said, "Oh! I would to God they were. Have 
you never heard of Melville B. Cox, our first missionary of the M. 
E. Church to Africa?" 

"No," I said, "what about him? " 

Then she gave me the history as we went on together. As she 
told me the story, and then said what his last words were when he 
died at Monrovia, Africa, — "Though a thousand fall, let not 
Africa be given up," — Oh! what a deep impression it made on my 
mind and heart. 

When we got to the corner she turned and went to her cottage. 
I went into Mrs. Battershell's and went straight up to my own 
room, locked the door, and got on my knees. What a time of con- 
secration, what a struggle I had! I said, " Lord, Africa's need is 
great, and I cannot go, though I would like to. But Thou know- 
est I have no education, and I do not understand the geography, 
so I would not know how to travel." 

For I thought that the next great qualification for African 
work, next to a full consecration and sanctification, which T knew 
T had, was to understand the geography, so as to know how to 
travel in Africa. Of course T was ignorant and green, and the 
Lord knew that, and had patience with me. So I said, " Lord, I 
am too old to learn now, but if you will help me I will educate my 
daughter, Mazie, and she can go." 

Then it came to me, would I be willing to have her go? Oh, 
what a struggle! 



Amanda Smith. 



217 



I seemed to see a great heathen town. There were the great 
boa-constrictors, and there the great lions and panthers, and there 
was my poor child. Oh! how I wept. But I said, " Lord, some- 
body must go to Africa, and I am too old to learn, so I cannot go. 
But I can. I will, I do, consecrate my child to Thee for Africa. 
My heart aches, but, Lord, help me. I give her to Thee. She is 
Thine, and Thou canst take care of her." 

I suppose I was there for an hour or two, but I never left my 
knees till I felt I had given her fully to God for Africa. 

"Now, Lord," I said, "open the way for me to get her edu- 
cated, so that she will not have the difficulty that I have if you 
want her to go. Lord, I don't want her to read books and get 
worked up in that way, but help me to educate her, and then sanc- 
tify her wholly and send her whither Thou wilt." 

When I arose from my knees, my heart was calm and restful. 
And now my thought was to get her educated. I prayed, and 
watched every indication. 

Several days later I chanced to meet that good man, Dr. Ward, 
and during our conversation I began telling him my experience, 
and how I was looking to the Lord about my daughter's education, 
and asked him where would be a good school for her. 

" Oh! " said he, " I wish I had known this yesterday. I have 
just given away a scholarship to some one (calling the name), and 
if I had known of your wish I would have been so glad to give it 
to you." 

Well, it seemed that all was lost. But still I hoped. This was 
the first of my thinking of going to Africa. 

I had worked so hard, and helped Mazie. She had been at 
Oberlin for a year, and at Xenia, and got on very nicely. But I 
could not keep up the expense. But at that time I was only think- 
ing to fit her for a teacher, and selfishly had planned in my mind 
that if I could help it she should not have to slave and work hard 
day and night as I had done. So I thought when I got old she 
would be in a position to help herself and me, and I could keep the 
home and look after everything while she was away teaching, and 
we could be so happy together, so that my last days would be 
happy. 

But, alas! how disappointed I have been, even in the shadow 
of such a hope. Every wish in that direction has been swept 
away, and I have had to surrender that cherished hope. I thought 



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I could not bear it. Oh! how I had to cry to God for enduring 
grace. And He has given it, and I am wonderfully upheld by His 
almighty hand. His grace is sufficient, even when we are disap- 
pointed in our brightest hopes. 

She is married and settled in her own home, and I am where 
I was when I first started, so far as that is concerned. And now 
my prayer before the Lord is, that He will save her soul in His 
own way. While her name is on the church record, yet like so 
many dear souls, I fear she has but little spiritual life! 

Time went on, and I saw no way to get my daughter educated 
for Africa. 

One summer we were at Ocean Grove with Mrs. Sanders. She 
had bought some lots, and they had a fine cottage right on the 
lake. So she invited me and Mazie to come down and spend the 
summer for the camp meeting. They had put up a large tent, 
which Mazie and I occupied, on one of these vacant lots, beauti- 
fully situated, near the lake. They had a great deal of company, 
so Mazie and I used to go in, and wait on the table, and help with 
the work. 

One morning I was busy helping in the kitchen before I went 
% to the meeting; Mazie had been waiting on the table in the dining- 
room; and Mrs. Sanders said to me: 

''Amanda Smith, come into the parlor; I want to speak to 
you." 

I did so, and she said, " I see that Mazie is just as smart as a 
steel trap; now, why don't you get her into school? " 

Then I told her my story, how I had been praying, and how 
I had been watching and waiting for the Lord to open some way. 
I told her I had done the best I could, and the expenses were so 
heavy I found I could not keep Mazie in school. I had done what 
I could for her for two years, so I thought she would have to do 
the next herself; I had given it up. But as she talked on I seemed 
to see this was the way the Lord was to answer my prayer. 

It was just as the camp meeting was closing, so Mrs. Sanders 
said: 

" Now, if you find a place for her to go to school, I will help 
you to get all her outfit, and send her, if you can do the other." 

I thanked her, and told her I would do what I could. I had 
heard of a good school in Baltimore, and as my aunt lived there I 
wrote and asked her about it; she kindly replied, and spoke highly 



Amanda Smith. 



219 



of the school; so that what she said confirmed what I had heard 
before; and then she was where she could look after rny child: so 
this decided me. 

The next week Mrs. Sanders went to New York and bought 
all her outfit, everything, and I went to work ana got her ready, 
and I think it was about the third week in September we were orT 
to Baltimore. She was at that school a year. Strange to say. 
just before the close of the year I got a letter from the matron, 
and she said Mazie was very smart; she was getting along nicely. 
If I could only just leave her for one year longer it would be the 
making of her. It was a pity to take her just now. And I won- 
dered if I could stand it another year. 

I went to the Lord and prayed, and asked Him to help me and 
strengthen me, and to open the way for me to get the means to 
keep her just another year. 

About two or three weeks after I had decided to let her 
remain another year, the Lord seemed to open my way clearly to 
go to England. I only expected to stay three months, and I 
thought how nice it would be, while she was in school, and was 
not losing any time, and would be well cared for, and under good 
discipline and control, and then my aunt could look after her. 

Everything seemed to be favorable. So in July, 1878. after I 
had gone to Baltimore and spent a week with her, I left her. and 
went to England. Instead of getting back in three months, as 1 
had thought and planned, I was away for over twelve years. 

After I had been in England about three months, the Lord 
made it very clear to me that I was to remain longer; so I thought 
three months longer; but when six months had passed, my way 
seemed to be shut up to come home, but open to remain. Xow, 
people say. " But how was that? " That is just what I say; for I 
do not understand it yet. and could not explain it: but I am just 
as sure that God was in it, as I am of my own existence. It is one 
of God's inexplicable dealings. I wrote and sent money home to 
my daughter, and had made all arrangements for her for two years. 

Then she wrote and told me she thought I had paid money 
enough for her. and that she wanted to come out of school, and 
had an opportunity for a situation as teacher; so I agreed to that. 
I knew she was clever enough, and quite able to do this, if she 
chose. A little while later on she wrote me that a young man had 
proposed marriage to her. I told her I had rather she would not 



220 



Autobiography of 



marry. She had quite time enough, and it would be so much 
better for her to come to England and spend at least a year or two 
first. 

I saw that her teaching plan was pretty well upset when she 
got the marrying spirit; and she was like many other young people; 
they cannot hear reason or anything when they take a notion to 
get married. If I had been at home, I think T should have for- 
bidden it; but being away, I thought if anything should happen 
I would always blame myself. But I urged her to come to England 
find wait a while; then she wrote me she had decided to do so. 
Many of my friends in England, who had been interested in 
her, were delighted. They had written to her, and she was all 
for coming to England. So I got the money all ready and was just 
about to send it for her to come. All the arrangements were made. 
But I thought to myself, " I will wait for a letter from Mazie before 
I send it." And when the letter came she wrote me very frankly 
that the young man had persuaded her to wait till after she was 
married, and then come to England. 

"No," I said, "if you come to England married you won't 
belong to me; you will belong to some one else; and if you can 
risk losing the opportunity that not many colored girls have had, 
and that you will not have again, and think more of the man, and 
take him in preference after all I have said, I guess the safest plan 
is that you remain. ' ' And I think so yet. But she could not have 
got a kinder husband, or one that did a better part by her, if I 
had been living right here with her. It is wonderful how the 
Lord provided in that. 

In answer to prayer, the Lord opened my way to attend Yar- 
mouth Camp Meeting. There I heard for the first time of the 
landing of the Pilgrims on Plymouth Rock. It seemed the Lord 
had appointed that grove especially for a camp meeting grove. 
There I first saw the famous Hutchinson family. Mr. Asa Hutch- 
inson, his wife, two sons, and a daughter, Miss Abbie, how well I 
remember them; their noble, kind-heartedness. They had me 
sing with them several times. Although all have passed away, 
the precious memory of them still remains. 

Through the kindness of Rev. B. F. Pomeroy, of the Troy 
Conference, I had my quarters during the camp meeting in one 
of his little tents. I shall never forget how kind he and his dear 
wife were to me. He used often to sit down and tell me wonder- 



Amanda Smith. 



221 



ful things about God's dealings with him, which often strength- 
ened my faith, and helped me. Praise the Lord! Many lights 
there are along the shore that never grow dim. 

I had been asked by the pastor of the Methodist Church, at 
Martha's Vineyard, to go to Martha's Vineyard Camp Meeting. 
He said he believed God would have me go, and that they had a 
society tent that they would put up on the camp ground, ''and," 
said he, "you can stay with us and we will look after you." 

This was on Wednesday. He said he must leave on Friday, 
but I could come with his wife and children. So I told Brother 
Pomeroy about it. He seemed to think it was not just the thing 
for me to go. He said that years ago that used to be the great 
place, the power of the Lord used to come on that camp ground 
in the old-fashioned way. "They have but very little of the 
Spirit now-a-days. They go more as a picnic, not the Holy Ghost 
times of the past." 

Well, he was always so good in his counsel that I thought it 
was the thing, of course, not to go; still, I thought that if they 
were so orderly and lifeless the more need there was for me to go, 
I might help a little. 

At the close of the morning service at the stand that day the 
Presiding Elder called out to all the tent holders within the circle 
to close the front of their tent, and there was to be no walking- 
inside the circle from half-past twelve till two, when the afternoon 
service would commence. 

During this interval I took my Bible and went into the woods 
about a half mile away, all alone, to ask God about going to 
Martha's Vineyard, and there, as I prayed and told the Lord how 
I had been asked to go, that Brother P. was a good man, and he 
said he thought I had better not go, and I wanted He should show 
me His will. 

"Lord," 1 said, " if Thou dost want me to take any message 
I will do it for Thee." 

So it was whispered to me to read, and I opened my Bible to 
see what the Lord would give me. Mai. 14, 1st verse: "And the 
Lord said go speak as I command you." I was afraid and said, 
"O, Lord, I am a stranger and a colored woman, and the people 
are proud and wicked, as has been told me," and I wept and trem- 
bled, but he said, "Go, do as I command you." 

I arose from my knees and went back to the tent, but I did 



222 



Autobiography of 



not dare to tell Brother P. what I had done. So the last day came, 
and when Brother P. began to take down their tent they wanted 
me to go with them to another camp meeting, but I said, "No, 
the Lord bids me go to Martha's Vineyard." They said they 
thought I was mistaken. But I said nothing. 

I prayed for the Lord to give me means. I would take it as an 
indication that I was to go. The next morning I wenHnto Father 
Snow's tent. We had a wonderful meeting. After the regular 
meeting was closed, several people asked me to sing, and a crowd 
gathered around. Some were standing on the benches. Someone 
dropped a two dollar note in my lap; that was my first token for 
the money, and I looked up and praised the Lord. Then there 
came a one dollar bill, then another, and so on till I had seven 
dollars. Just then a strange lady turned to me and said: 

" Have you ever been to Martha's Vineyard?" 

"No." 

" I believe the Lord wants you there, and if you will go I will 
give you a good place to sleep." 

This lady's name was Mrs. Jenkins. She said her daughter 
was on from Baltimore, and had taken a cottage for the summer; 
that she had such a nice colored woman who was nurse for her. 
Then she wrote her name and address on a card and said, " I leave 
to-day and want you to come to our cottage, if you come." I 
thanked her and said, " All right, madam." When the day came 

I started off with Mrs. and the children and servant. The 

.Lord seemed to have ordered everything. 

Going up on the boat I went to pay my fare, and some one 
said, " Your fare has been paid." 

" Praise the Lord," but I said I did not know the parties, so 
that I could thank them. So several of us sat down to dinner; 
when I went to pay they said, "Your bill is settled," and so there 
was another, "praise the Lord! " I could see so far very clearly 
the hand of the Lord in it. 

When we reached the camp ground, Martha's Vineyard, it 
was found that the society tent that the pastor had told me about 
had been exchanged and another sent in its place, and after all we 
did not have any tent, so what should we do. I said to the pastor's 
wife, "What shall I do?" 

"I don't know," she said, "what we shall do now, we will 
have to see about sending it back and getting our own." 



Amanda Smith, 



223 



-■Well," I said, "I will go up to Mrs. Jenkins, who gave me 
her address," and, sure enough, it seemed to be just the place, so 
that " In some way or other the Lord does provide." 

Now it came Sunday. O, how the Lord supplied my needs, 
one dollar, two dollars at a time. I kept watching for the time to 
deliver my message. 

In the afternoon I went into a large tent where they were hold- 
ing meetings before the approaching service. I sat down quietly, 
and they sang and prayed. I do not remember the minister's name 
who was leading the meeting. Just before the close he called upon 
me to sing. I arose to sing, but the Lord said, "Deliver the mes- 
sage first: " so I quoted the passage of Scripture, Mai. 4th chapter, 
1st verse: "Behold the day cometh that shall burn as an 
oven, etc." 

There was a great crowd around as well as inside the tent, and 
as I lifted my hand and pointed my finger towards the door, 
repeating the text that was given me, the people looked astounded. 
Then I sang, "All I want is a little more faith in Jesus." The 
Lord put His seal on this message, also on the song. 

A lady from Providence, R. I., was in this tent meeting. She 
had come with a very definite object, to seek the blessing of a 
clean heart. She was called a swell lady; she was one of the ones 
rather up, and did not condescend to things of low estate! So as I 
began to sing, " AIL I want is a little more faith in Jesus," she 
walked out of the tent and said to herself, as she passed out, " I 
came here to seek the blessing of a clean heart, I did not come to 
hear a negro ditty, "and the blessed Holy Spirit said to her, "Is not 
that 3'our need, 'a little more faith in Jesus?' " 

Then her eyes were opened, and she said, " O, Lord, I see." 
Then she went into her tent and there prayed, and the Lord sent 
the baptism and gave her the desire of her heart. 

Some time after this, when Brothers Inskip and McDonald 
were holding their meeting at Providence, R. I., one morning I 
went into the meeting about one o'clock, (testimony meeting) I 
didn't know of this lady's struggle at the time, but just as I got 
into the door, I heard this lady say, " Amanda Smith." Her back 
was to me. I sat down quietly to listen to her testimony. She 
went on and gave it in the words above. 

Now about the message. About four months after this camp 
meeting closed, I was holding meetings in one of the Methodist 



224 



Autobiography of Amanda Smith. 



churches in Worcester, Mass., and a gentleman who was Superin- 
tendent of a large Sabbath School, (a Mr. C.) said to me one day, 
" Amanda Smith, do you remember being at Martha's Vineyard at 
such a time? " 

"Yes," I said. 

" Do you remember the Sunday in the tent when you got up 
and quoted that passage from Malachi and sang?" 
"Yes." 

"Well/' said he, "the Lord sent that message to me." 

Mr. C. was head clerk in one of the largest dry goods stores in 
Worcester, and at the same time was Superintendent of a large 
Sabbath School, and he worked very hard, and was very tired, 
and he had gone to this camp meeting for his vacation, and he 
and his young people all went out there for a vacation more than 
for the purpose of attending the meeting. They would go to 
preaching in the morning; but would not attend any of the social 
meetings. In the afternoon they would generally go off for a game 
of croquet, or on the lake, boating. 

When they heard the singing in this tent a whole party of 
them were just on their way to the croquet ground. They stopped 
at the tent door to see the colored woman, and to hear what she had 
to say. He just got there as I repeated the text and he said it came 
to his heart like an arrow. He went back to his tent and began 
to pray, and he said the Lord showed him how near backsliding 
he was, how far away, so that he was really alarmed, and that 
text saved him through God's mercy. 

I praised the Lord that he enabled me to obey him. It was 
not a little thing, it was a trial, but see the blessing that came out 
of it to this brother, I then praised the Lord that the message 
was heard by the one, and the song by the other. It pays to obey. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 



PITTMAN CHURCH, PHILADELPHIA — HOW I BECAME THE OWNER OF 
A HOUSE, AND WHAT BECAME OF IT — THE MAYFLOWER MIS- 
SION, BROOKLYN — AT DR. CUYLER'S. 

It was in '78. 1 was holding meeting, first at Manayunk, 
Brother Rakestraw's; then at Holmesburg, Brother Gillingham's; 
then at Camden, then at Xorristown, Brother Day's. We had a 
good work at all these places. Many souls were saved and believ- 
ers built up. 

Then I was called to Horton Street. Brother Robinson was 
pastor. There the Lord blessed us mightily. There was a sweep- 
ing revival. Every night for more than two weeks the church was 
packed, altar and pulpit. Some of the good folks really got tried 
because the people crowded so. I remember one Sunday night the 
aisles and pulpit steps were crowded. Poor old Brother Taska, — 
now in heaven — had hard work to get into the pulpit, and when 
he did get there he was obliged to stand. He said he would not 
come again in such a crowd. 

After the address was over we tried to make room for the 
altar service. It was not long till the altar was filled with seekers, 
some for pardon, some for purity. I noticed a young man who sat 
on a chair in the aisle and seemed to be deeply interested. He 
seemed as though he wanted to come forward; and then, there was 
a young lady with him. I watched him. All at once he got up 
and laid his hat and coat down and came forward, and just as he 
put his hand on the altar rail and was in the act of kneeling down, 
the Lord blessed him so powerfully that he clapped his hands and 
shouted, Glory to God, I am saved. He, like the poor man in the 
Gospel, the leper that came to Jesus, said, "Lord, if Thou wilt 
Thou canst make me clean, " and Jesus said to him in return, "I 
will; be thou clean." 

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Autobiography of 



As he turned to face the congregation, his sister, that he had 
not seen for years, was just behind him. She had been praying 
for him, but she did not know that he was there, nor did he know 
that she was there. She sprang to him and threw her arms around 
his neck and they had a good time of rejoicing together. This 
had a marvelous effect upon the congregation. A number came 
forward, and many professed to be saved that night. 

One dear woman that I met last fall at the Saturday night holi- 
ness meeting, told me she was converted at that meeting; also her 
husband and two children. She told me how she disliked me because 
I was a colored woman; how she went to church full of prejudice, 
but when God saved her He took it all out, and now she loves me 
as a sister and thinks I have a beautiful color! Of course, I call 
that a good conversion to begin with. 

Some people don't get enough of the blessing to take prejudice 
out of them, even after they are sanctified. 

Some time after this I went to Pittman Church. Rev. George 
McLaughlin was pastor. The church was not finished. We held 
meetings in the lecture room, a fine large room that would hold 
over three hundred, T suppose, and every night it was packed. 
Here we had a grand time from the start. On Sunday afternoon 
we had a marvelous meeting. At that meeting dear Brother 
Alkhorn got the blessing of sanctification, after seeking it for thirty 
years, as he said in his testimony when he arose. I shall never 
forget that Sabbath afternoon. The Lord wonderfully helped me 
to speak for Him. 

Brother McLaughlin was a grand, good man to work with, 
though he was not very definite on the line of holiness, but he said 
to me, "Sister Smith, you go ahead; I am with you." So he put 
no bands on and T had perfect freedom, thank God. 

Brother Alkhorn was a local preacher; was a converted man 
and had been for years, and always longed for the blessing of 
full salvation. He was thorough Wesleyan as well as Scriptural 
in his views of the doctrine. He said he would preach it and 
sometimes would believe he had it, then he would meet with min- 
isters that did not see it as he did, and declare that all was done at 
conversion. Then he would get in the dark again, and this was 
the way he went on for years. 

He kept a bakery on Lumber street. T got to know him and 
the family very well. He was a member of the Western Metho- 



Amanda Smith. 



227 



dist Church, and I think Dr. Patterson was the pastor at the time 
of his death. 

He sat that Sunday afternoon about three pews from the altar, 
while many testimonies were given — many of them very definite 
and clear — to the experience and power of this great salvation. 
Then we had an altar service, and I urged those who really desired 
to know the experience for themselves to come forward and kneel 
at the altar, and settle it then and there. A number came forward. 
I saw Brother A. get up deliberately, take off his overcoat, fold it 
together, and then take his hat and cane and walk forward and 
hand them to some of the brethren. And as he kneeled at the 
altar, he said, " Brethren, I want the blessing." And he began to 
pray like he wanted it, indeed; and in a little while he sank down 
into a calm, and said, "It is done, praise the Lord. The blood 
cleanseth; glory to Jesus." He arose and bore the testimony that 
I have already given. 

In about a year, I think it was, after this, he met with a sad 
accident: was thrown from his wagon, and in a few days died. 
But. O. he triumphs over death, hell and the grave! 

I lost a true friend when he was taken, that is, as the world 
would say, but I have a never dying friend in Jesus. Praise His 
dear name forever. 

At the same altar, kneeling just a little further along from 
where Brother Alkhorn kneeled, a great big man. a Dutchman, 
was kneeling. He had been seeking the Lord for fifteen years, 
off and on, but never got into clear light. The people at the 
altar were all getting blessed, and rising one after the other, and it 
was getting late and time for the meeting to close. This poor 
man got into an awful struggle. He cried out, " Lord, save me." 
He wouldn't get up. 

"Hold on," I shouted, "you are nearly out." 

I felt things were giving way, and I said, "All you need, all 
you want, is a little more faith in Jesus," and his poor wife felt 
she could not hold on any longer. She came inside the altar and 
was just about to throw her arms around his neck. She was over- 
come with sympathy for him. I caught her and said, " Oh, what- 
ever you do, don't touch him; you will hinder him." 

"Oh," she said, "I have prayed so long." 

I held on to her and kept her back, while the brethren were 
encouraging his faith. In a few minutes he sprang to his feet, 



228 



Autobiography of 



shouting at the top of his voice, " I am saved, I am saved. Glory 
to Jesus! Glory to Jesus! " 

I let his wife go and he caught her up in his arms, then he let 
her go and caught hold of some of the brethren. Oh, how he 
shouted! I kept out of the way; of course I wouldn't interfere. 
So this was a good start for our meeting for the week. 

We went on for ten days, and there were scores converted. 
During all this time the interest never nagged one night. 

Brother M. wanted me to stay longer, but I could not. I had 
an engagement at Long Island, with Brother Hollis. It was at this 
time my house in Philadelphia was planned for, without my 
knowledge. About two weeks after, I got a letter from Mrs. James 
Orr. She said, "Some friends are planning to buy you a house, 
but they don't want you to know it, so don't let on that I have 
told you." 

I was dreadfully frightened, and as soon as I had read the let- 
ter I got on my knees and prayed that the Lord would not let them 
succeed in getting the house that they were planning for. I 
thought it was too much for me. I said, the idea of a poor woman 
like me having a house given to her! There must be something 
wrong about it. Oh, how I prayed! 

Several days after this I got another letter, saying that the 
house they were looking at and wanted, they could not get. There 
was something that was not just satisfactory in regard to the deed, 
so I thought the Lord had answered my prayer, and it was all 
right. 

In a day or two I was off again, holding meetings. After ten 
days, I came home. A number of letters were waiting for me — 
two from Philadelphia. I opened and read them. The first was 
from the same person. She said, " Don't say I told you, for they 
want to surprise you. They have looked at another house and 
have made arrangements to buy, and will pay so much to close the 
bargain, such a day." 

That was all done two days before I got home, as I saw by the 
date of the letter. Then I thought it all over. I said, I have 
never asked the Lord to give me a house, and I wonder if He really 
wants me to have it. It must mean something, for why should 
these people persist in getting the house for me? I am a colored 
woman, and they are all white, and they are strangers. So then I 
got down and prayed the Lord to bless and prosper those who had 



Amastda Smith. 229 

undertaken it. The lady that wrote me had told me how that 
everybody was favorable to it. how much Chaplain Gibben and his 
wife were interested and had given quite a sum to start with. 
Well, it did look as though the Lord was in it. 

Then I opened the other letters. There was one from the very 
gentleman who was the proposer, and who had set the thing 
going. Brother Andrew Marshall. He was well known in Phila- 
delphia, one of the leading men in Pittman Church at the time, 
and a man doing a large business in the bakery and confectionery, 
and a good man. so I could but feel the Lord was in it. He told 
me all about it. The house was three thousand dollars, subject 
to the ground rent of sixty dollars a year. Two thousand dollars 
of this money had already been provided for through friends of 
Mr. Marshall's, so that I had nothing to do with this part of it in 
any way: I must only be ready to come at the time they said. So 
away I went for two weeks more. 

When I returned there were letters. The house was bought, 
the deed was made out in my name, and I only to come on. They 
said you need not bring anything if you don't care to. Some of 
the ladies of Pittman. with Mrs. Orr. had gone to work and fur- 
nished two rooms, the front bed-room upstairs, and the front 
parlor downstairs: everything nice and comfortable. So I got 
ready and went. 

I took a very few things: I had not many. My dear old irons 
and ironing-board, that had seen me through so many hard 
places in Xew York. I couldn't forget them nor leave them behind! 
Then the little, low, old chair that I had kneeled beside and 
fought such a battle, on the remembrance of the Xew York riot 
after I was sanctified ! I said, 1 ' I must take these things anyhow. ' ' 

Tt was late on Saturday evening before I got off, so I did not 
get to the house till about seven p. m. Then, sure enough, at 181? 
Addison street, a nice little three story brick house, nice white 
marble steps in front, all lighted with gas! 

It was very nice. Then there were a number of friends 
gathered, and a good warm fire. I didn't know what to do or say, 
and I praised the Lord, and thanked the people, and I said, "Is it 
really mine?'' Then they handed me the deed. Then I said, 
" Let us pray. " 

That seemed out of order, for we were all too happy to pray, 
so we sang the Doxology. 



230 



AUTOBTOC4RAPHY OF 



" Let me walk up and down in it," I said; so we went upstairs 
in all the rooms; I looked in all the closets, everywhere, then we 
went down in the basement, then I had the nicest tea! The ladies 
had provided everything. 

It all seemed very fine. Everything went on nicely for about 
a year, then came a trial. 

The great Centennial had started hopes and expectations in 
many that were never realized; so it was with Brother M. In 
this extremity he got Brother Robinson, one of the leading mem- 
bers in Salem M. E. Church, to help him meet some liabilities 
which were urgent, which he did. Then it appears that Brother 
M. failed on his side, which caused great dissatisfaction and 
unpleasantness between these friends. 

I knew but little about it. I didn't try to know. I felt that 
what they had done was out of real kindness to me, though bad 
luck came of it, as it often does out of our best motives. This 
placed me in a very embarrassing position. They were both 
Christian gentlemen and business men, and who was I to dictate 
to them about what they were doing so kindly for me. 

It got into the papers, through Brother Wallace, that the 
friends in Philadelphia, had ^iven Amanda Smith a house, and 
also one at Ocean Grove. Mr. M. called my attention to the fact. 
I said, " That is a mistake; all I have at Ocean Grove, is this: the 
committee are always very kind and they do not charge me for 
my tent and ground during the time I stay, but that is all/' 

"Brother M.," I said, "you can correct that; see Brother 
Wallace and tell him," for he was then editor of the "Home 
Journal," and it was in that paper that the statement was made. 

"If I do it," I said, " it will look as if I were dissatisfied, or 
like casting some reflection on your management of affairs." 

"Yes," he said, "I will see Brother Wallace," but I don't 
know whether he did or not. From that time, according to the 
best I could learn, the donations to complete the payment on the 
house stopped; but so far as that was concerned, I had nothing at 
all to do. I had just one hundred and fifty dollars in hand. This 
the Lord had given me at different camp meetings during the sum- 
mer. I had given the one hundred to Mr. M. I kept the rest. I 
had my house all papered and painted inside, and a tin roof put 
on; it was not very long till it was all done. 

Always before this time I had managed, and had enough to 



Amanda Smith. 



231 



get on with nicely, and I thought as the house was mine, it was 
right I should put it in good order, then I would not have to do it 
in a long time again: but this statement in the papers affected me 
personally, greatly. I went about holding meetings as usual, but 
got but very little to what I had received before. People said, 
"She is all right, she has two houses, one at Ocean Grove, one in 
Philadelphia." so. of course, if I had two houses I was rich and 
needed nothing to eat or drink! 

Well, I did not know what to do. but the Lord helped me to 
hold still. I came home from a tour in Ohio, and went to Ocean 
Grove Camp Meeting. I had been there two days when a telegram 
came, saying: 

" Come home at once. Marshall." 

" What in the world is the matter? " I wondered. 

I got ready and went on, at about ten a. m. Went to the store, 
saw Brother M. He was bright and happy. 

44 What is the matter?" I asked. 

Then he told me he was embarrassed, and it was necessary for 
him to meet a note at such a time. 

"Well," I said, "what do you want me to do? " 

"I thought I would ask you if you would sign a mortgage, 
then we could borrow the money out of the Building Association 
till such a time, and I would get straight." 

" You know. Brother M.," I replied. "I don't know a bit about 
the Building Association. I never could °ret it through my head, I 
have never done anything but pay my rent, that is all. I can lead 
a prayer meeting now and then, and that is about all I know." 

" This will be all right." he said. 

"Well, if you say so, I will do it." 

So he went and had the papers made out. I had made 
myself responsible to the Building Association for fifteen dollars a 
month. I had never paid so heavy a rent before; then, five dollars 
a month for my ground rent, made it twenty dollars a month, 
be sides other expenses; but I did the best I could. 

Mr. Cleg, who was the Secretary of the Building Association, 
was very kind, and I told him I didn't know how in the world I 
could ever carry it. He told me to hold on and it would be better 
after a while. 

Some months had passed, I don't know how long, when Brother 
M. came to me again and asked me to help him mept another 
engagement. So I went again: the papers were made out. 



232 



Autobiography of 



When Mr. Marshall stated to the lawyer the object of our 
coming again, the lawyer turned to me and looked at me right in 
the face, and said to me, "Do you want to sign this paper?" 

"Well," I said, "I suppose I will have to." 

Then he gave a quiet grumble to himself, as it were, and began 
to write, and 1 was asked to sign my name. That look he gave me 
seemed to have an expression in it like this, " Well, you are a fool," 
and that is just about the way I felt, but still I signed the papers 
and became responsible still further to the Building Association. 

Now, with my ground rent and taxes I must pay forty dollars 
a month. I told Mr. M. I could not do it, but he said he would 
take hold and help me out as soon as these urgent demands were 
met. 

I must go on, only God knows how I did. Sometimes I didn't 
have money enough to get me a loaf of bread. I went to Mr. Cleg 
and told him he must take the house, I could not pay the dues. 
He wis very kind. 

"Hold on, Mrs. Smith, pay what you can, we will not push 
you," he said, "everything is dull just now," etc. 

I got so little for my services, I could not get on, and the con- 
stant thought I had to carry all the time that I was getting still 
deeper in debt to the Building Association. I was ashamed to tell 
anyone, it would look to white people like bad management on the 
part of those who were my friends. Then I knew what some of 
my own people would say, and had said already, that I was a kind 
of a " white folks' nigger," and I knew they would say, " That is 
just what I told you it would all come to. can't tell me about 
white folks." They wouldn't see God in any of it, so here I was. 
What to do 1 didn't know. I could not speak of it publicly for the 
reason I have already mentioned. 

One day I came home in great distress of mind. I was away 
in Jersey helping a good brother who wanted me so much to help 
him. I went. He told me the people were very poor and could 
not give me much, and, though I had a number of other calls 
where I could have expected more, I chose to go to this place and 
help this brother. 

After two weeks' hard work they gave me six dollars; and 
my railroad expenses were three dollars the round trip. The peo- 
ple were poor, but kind and good, and the minister was a good 
man and had a large family, but they were poor. God bless them. 



Amanda Smith. 



233 



The}' got me a home with a sister, where I was comfortable as I 
could be. though sometimes it was verv cold. 

I got home about ten o'clock in the morning. I slipped into the 
house, kept the front windows closed, opened one window in the 
back room, and got down on my knees. I said, "Now, Lord, you 
must help me, for I can't go another day with this burden." It 
was dark. I did not eat. I thought and planned in my mind, and 
thought. Then I would pray a^ain. When I gave out, I got up 
and lay down on the sofa and studied what plan I should take. 
•'If T go to Mr. Marshall, he will say just as he said before. If I 
go to Mr. C, he is so kind, and will say the same." Then, down 
on my knees again. I saw myself put out of the house with no 
place to go. I sat with my things all around me and the people 
looking, some were laughing and saying, "I told you so." 

Oh, what a struggle it was. It all seemed as real as life itself. 
I died out completely on this point, and when the last pang was 
over I felt myself singing Brother John Parker's hymn: — 

41 1 am more than conqueror through his blood, 
Jesus saves me now. 
I rest beneath the shield .of God, 
Jesus saves me now." 
Chorus. — "Though foes be strong, 
And walls be high, 
I'll shout. He giv^s the victory, 
I'll shout, He gives the victory, 
Jesus saves me now." 

This was about two o'clock in the afternoon. I arose from the 
place and took my things off. for I had only laid off my bonnet. I 
opened the house upstairs and down, hoisted the windows and 
sang all the hymns I knew of by heart, I sang loud and strong. 
Oh, what a victory ! A short time after this, the Lord marvel- 
ously opened my way to go to England, yes, I say marvelously, for 
all told, it was really marvelous, indeed. 

After I had been in England about six months, though I had 
written to Mr. Marshall and Robinson, also Mr. Cleg, the secre- 
tary of the Building Association, a letter from Mr. Robinson came 
to say I must come home at once, the taxes had not been paid, 
and, I suppose, to hurry me, he said the house could be sold for 
taxes if not paid by such a day. 



234 



Autobiography op 



I had no one to refer to, but these two brethren, that had 
trouble enough with it already. I was at Mildmay, in London, 
when this letter came. My head whirled for a moment. I was in 
the street when I opened and read the letter. I felt as though I 
could fly. I said, what can I do, this is Thursday. T thought I 
would go and pack my trunk and take the night train to Liver- 
pool, and so take the first steamer going out. My heart beat and 
my mind was so confused. I stood still and closed my eyes and 
asked the Lord to quiet me and tell me what to do. In a moment 
He took every thought and wish to go home out of me. I said I 
can write and say all I need to say, and the same steamer that I 
would go on will take the letter. 

So I wrote to Brother Robinson, " I can't come, but sell the 
house or give it away, I don't wish it, get your money out, I don't 
want any. " 

I see now I might have done differently if I only had known 
how, but still it would have been a great burden and anxiety on 
me, for instead of staying three months I was gone twelve years. 

Then after I went to India, while I was at Naini Tal, Upper 
India, they sent me papers to sign, and I went before a magistrate 
at Naini Tal, India, and in the presence of these witnesses I signed 
all rights and claim away. So the house was sold, and Amanda 
Smith was where she was when she first started, so far as having 
a house was concerned; and that ended the house that so many 
people think I still own. 

I was sorry for the good people who had given the money, but 
could not help it. I had nothing to do Avith it from first to last, 
but to accept it, as I have before stated. After the house was 
sold, the people had to move. I wrote to them to take care of my 
things. I sent the money to help to move the firsc time, but they 
moved a number of times in twelve years, so I found it difficult to 
keep up to that. 

Every one knows that often in moving, even when one is right 
on the spot themselves to look after their things, it is difficult to 
save losses and come out straight, so what must I expect when I 
came home from Africa. I had no place to go. The people had 
stored the things and had gone away for the summer, and had not 
got home when I arrived. When they did come, they could not 
get a house large enough to accommodate us all, but a good friend 
in Brooklyn, Mr. Tom Gibson, and his wife, had written me in 



Amanda Smith. 



235 



England inviting me to come and spend some time with them. 
On the day I arrived I sent a telegram to him from the steamer, 
and Mr. Gibson came to meet me and took me to his home, and I 
stayed with them two weeks. 

Mrs. Gibson was quite ill at the time, and has since passed 
away. I had known them for twenty years. Mrs Titus, her 
mother, gave me a place to stay in her tent the first time I was at 
Round Lake Camp Meeting, and. after that, good Brothers Hill- 
man and Hartshorn always saw that I had a tent all to myself. 
God bless them. 

After the two weeks I felt I must have a room, my trunk and 
things were in the way, and through a friend of Mrs. Gibson's I 
got a 'small back room, which I had to pay ten dollars a month 
for. I could not do better at the time, but the Lord knew I could 
not stand that long, but O, I was so weak and worn and I must 
have some place. 

A number of friends in different places kindly invited me to 
come and stay with them, but all wanted me to hold some meet- 
ings, and I was too tired and weary to think sometimes, and then 
the Lord, who is ever a present help in time of trouble, put it in 
the heart of that grand woman, Mrs. Mary R. Denmen, of Newark, 
and she wrote to me and said for me to come to Newark, and she 
would give me a room in one of her houses. The house that her 
coachman lived in was a nice, comfortable little house, with 
seven rooms, and Joseph had but a small family, so I could have 
one room there free of rent. Oh, how I praised the Lord for His 
wonderful, loving kindness, providing for me. 

Mrs. Denmen is a member of the Episcopal Church, but ever 
since I have known her. for over twenty years, I have never had 
a warmer and truer friend than she has been. Her friendship is 
so practical, only God Himself knows how many times she has 
helped me when I know that no mortal knew my need but the 
Lord himself. 

I have enjoyed my cozy little room this winter, while I have 
been writing my book, though much of the time I am away, but 
there is no place like home when you are there. Surely, the eyes 
of the Lord run to and fro over the wmole earth to show Himself 
strong in behalf of them whose heart is perfect towards Him, and 
now T don't know where I may next be led, but no matter where I 
go I shall never forget No. 64 Park street, Newark, nor my beloved 



236 



Autobiography of 



benefactress, Mrs. Mary R. Denmen. May God bless her and her 
dear family. 

Mr. Beecher had two Mission churches in Brooklyn — Bethany 
and the Mayflower. I spent a week at each, in 1878. In both of 
these churches the Lord blessed us very greatly. 

I remember very distinctly one special incident — the recon- 
ciliation between two brothers who had once been very dear 
friends. They were boys together, and were both in business in 
the same office, in New York. They were both professed Chris- 
tians, members of the church. One was Superintendent of the 
Sabbath School. But they had some falling out, and had not 
spoken to each other for four or five years. 

Both wanted to speak, but each was too spunky to speak first, 
and the longer it went on the more difficult it became, until at 
last Mr. B. said he was so miserable he had resigned his position 
as Superintendent, and had quit going to church regularly, and 
was just making up his mind to withdraw from the church 
entirely. His wife begged of him, for the sake of the three beau- 
tiful children they had, and the influence it would have on them, 
not to leave, so he was holding on, but felt he would leave. Oh! 
how the Devil chuckles over anything like that. 

Though they would not speak, they would make hateful 
insinuations and remarks about each other, so that each would 
get what the other said, without speaking; and how tantalizing 
that is. But God, who is so rich in mercy, will not let us be 
tempted above that we are able to bear, but will; with the tempta- 
tion, also make a way of escape. It pleased the Lord to let me be 
at the Mayflower just at that time. 

One night, while I was speaking on the forgiveness of our 
enemies, the Spirit of God got hold of this young man. At the 
close of the meeting he came up and said he wanted to talk to me, 
and he toid me his story. I urged him to go to his brother and 
have a talk with him. 

"I know he will not speak." 

" But," I said, "you speak to him." 

" But I know him so well," he said, " that I know if I do he 
will curse me, and I can't stand it." 

I told him that God would help him if he would resolve to do 
right. After a long talk and prayer he said he would go to him. 
I told him I would pray for him that night and all the next day, 
and in the evening he was to report about it. 



Amanda Smith, 



337 



And Oh! how I did pray for those two men. Only as a soul 
can pray when it feels that God is about to gain a victory. Next 
morning, somehow, I felt so quiet and joyful. And yet I did not 
know what had happened. Only I believed God had undertaken 
for them. 

The evening came on. I went to church, and I saw this gen- 
tleman come in. His face was like a sunbeam. He was hand- 
some, anyhow. But, Oh! now he was beautiful. I knew some- 
thing had happened. The heavy, deep, gloomy countenance was 
gone. He made his way to me at the close of the meeting, and 
said: 

"Oh! Sister Smith, praise the Lord, it is all right.' ' 

"Amen," I said. "I told you so. Well, now tell me about it." 

"Well, " he said, ' ' I made up my mind last night that I would 
speak to Will anyhow, and if he would not speak, and would curse 
me, I didn't care. The Lord fixed it so nice. I prayed all the 
morning as I was going. I am generally at the office first. But 
this morning he was there. So I went in. There was no one in 
but him. 1 walked right up to him, and I said: ' Look here, Will, 
I think it is time you and I were done with this foolishness of 
ours,' and he sprang to his feet and took me by the hand and said, 
with tears, ' Yes, Charlie, I have wanted to speak to you for a 
month, but I was afraid you wouldn't speak.' 'And Will,' I said, 
4 1 have wanted to speak to you, but thought you didn't care to 
speak to me, and would curse me. But the Lord has blessed me, 
and now we are old friends again. Thank the Lord! ' " 

If nothing else was done at that meeting, surely it was a great 
victory; this long breach between these two brothers healed, and 
a reconciliation taken place. Satan would rather they had fought 
a duel. But the best way to fight a duel, in my opinion, is on 
your knees, surrendering to God, and getting a heart filled with 
love and forgiveness. Amen. 

Monday night I was at Dr. Cuyler's Church, Tuesday at the 
Methodist Church, Wednesday night at the Baptist Church, and 
we ended our services the next Sabbath at Dr. Buddington's. The 
ministers all united and gave their churches, and all the collec- 
tions, so the ladies were liberal with me, God bless them. They 
knew nothing of my expectation of going to England, so I could 
see it was all the Lord's doings, and was marvelous. I asked the 
Lord for everything I needed, direct. 



238 



Autobiography of 



The summer before, my good friend, Mrs. Saunders, had given 
me a very nice black silk dress, had it made and all, and I had 
expected it to last me all my lifetime, so I put it away and had not 
worn it. Then when I was at Fleet Street, the ladies had given 
me a grey suit, dress and cape, so I had these two good dresses, 
and one other that I traveled in. Some one gave me a pair of kid 
gloves, then some one gave me some ruching for the neck of my 
dress; some pocket handkerchiefs were given me, and some one 
gave me stockings. Oh, it was wonderful how everything seemed 
to come in. So my wardrobe was complete, though not elaborate, 
and, of course, it did not take me long to arrange it in my trunk, 

That night at Dr. Cuyler's Church they had the lecture room 
engaged and all lighted and warmed so nicely, but he was regret- 
ting that a meeting had been arranged for Monday night at his 
church, as he was anxious the ladies should have a good coll c- 
tion; also, owing to the old folks' concert that was to be held at 
Dr. Sudder's Church, that night was not so favorable. He was 
afraid it would affect the result of the meeting, but his great sur- 
prise was the fact that the meeting was to begin at half past seven 
p. m. I got there at a quarter past seven and the lecture room was 
crowded, and many outside, and the people were clamoring and 
saying we must open the church. I never got in at all till the 
church had been opened and a fire started. As soon as the church 
was opened the people rushed out of the lecture room into the 
church. Dr. Cu}^ler told me to wait in the lecture room till the 
people got settled. 

This unsettled me a little, but I prayed the more that God 
would bless the people and help me to speak for Him, and I said, 
"Now, Lord, don't let anybody take cold," for the church could 
not be heated for some time, but as there had been fire all day Sun- 
day, they thought it was safe to venture. 

The Lord did help me speak for Him. It was wonderful that 
night how He helped me. When all was settled and the large 
church was filled and many in the gallery, Dr. Cuyler said, " Mrs. 
Smith, will you go in now? " How very kind he was! 

I knew there had been some trouble some time before about a 
lady speaking in his church. I thought if they would make such 
a fuss about one so gentle and sweet and refined as Miss Sarah 
Smiley, what would they do with me? So I said to myself, 
"Well, I will do just whatever I am told to do." 



Amanda Smith. 



239 



" They will not dare to ask me inside the chancel, 1 ' I thought, 
"so if they put a bench or chair in the aisle and ask me to stand 
on it and speak, I will do it." 

Mrs. Johnson and Miss Ludlow and a number of the other 
temperance ladies were with me, so Dr. Cuyler asked me if I would 
go in the pulpit. 

44 My ! " I thought :o myself; " however, I will do just as 1 am 
told," so I walked up, and it was dreadful high. After he had 
seated me, he said, "Mrs. Smith, would you like to have one of 
the ladies sit with you? " 

44 If they would like to, sir, I should be pleased." So he went 
and asked them, but each declined. Then he came himself and 
sat by me and introduced me to the people so nicely. I sang and 
gave a Bible talk. I had perfect freedom, as if I had been in a 
Methodist Church. I talked an hour and not a soul budged to go 
out, and Dr. C. spoke highly of the meeting, and the people gave 
the ladies a real fat collection, just like people do when they are 
really blest! 



CHAPTER XIX. 



BROOKLYN — CALL TO GO TO ENGLAND — B A.LTIMORE — VOYAGE 

OVER. 

I was in Brooklyn holding meetings at Fleet Street Church, 
Rev. J. I Simmons, pastor. Then at Mr. Beecher's Mission, 
"Mayflower." We had a good work, and also at the other mis- 
sion, uptown. Friday afternoon the ladies' meeting in the lecture 
room of Plymouth. There were several splendid ladies there in 
those days, and are yet, no doubt. 

These Friday afternoon meetings were the regular ladies' con- 
secration meetings, and on Saturday afternoon we had young 
people's and children's meeting in the same room, and I believe a 
number of the dear young people and children gave their hearts to 
the Lord. I needed rest very much. I had been going on without 
a break all summer and all winter. I was dreadfully worn 
and tired, and as soon as I got through had purposed going to 
Ocean Grove to rest a little. Dear old Brother Tompkins, of 
Tompkins Cove, N. Y., had given me the use of a room at their 
little cottage, where I could go and stay as long as I chose. How 
good of the Lord to thus provide for me! How well I remember 
those dear friends, though they have long since gone to their 
reward. 

Everything in the way of comfort and convenience was left 
for me to use, so I was anxious to get off. Rev. Lindsey J. Parker 
was then pastor of old Sands Street Methodist Church. He came 
after me to come to Sands Street for ten days. I was stopping 
with a family next door to Plymouth Church, whose name T can't 
remember, but I know he was a Baptist brother, strong in the 
faith, and he doctored me well on baptism. My! how many books 
he gave me to read! I am not half through yet; don't know as I 
ever will be. He was very kind, though, and so was his family. 

(240) 



Amanda Smith. 



241 



Well, I tried my best to beg off from Mr. Parker — I told him 
how tired I was, and how much I needed rest. I told him I would 
give him the whole month of September if he would let me off. 

No, he said, his official board told him he must have me come, 
if but for a week, and I told him I would let him know the next 
week. I prayed earnestly that the Lord would give me strength 
and help me through that week, and it was wonderful how He did 
help me as I have often asked Him before. So on Monday morn- 
ing I went to see if I could prevail on Dr. Parker to let me have 
the rest, but no word I could say moved him from what he had 
said first. 

Just when we were busy talking the bell rang, and Dr. Parker 
was called away. Then a Miss Price, a friend of Mrs. Parker's, 
was there visiting. She was an English lady; had been in this 
country about four years, and was expecting to go home in April. 
She was very pleasant, and I began telling her and Mrs. Parker 
how I was trying to beg the Doctor to let me off for a rest. So 
finally Miss Price said, "Well, you do need rest; you had better 
come and go with me to England next month; it would be just the 
thing for you. The great Paris Exposition is going on, and I would 
take you, and we would have a real nice time, and I know the trip 
would do you good." 

"Yes," I said, "that would be nice." 

"Well," she said, " pray about it; I believe the Lord would 
have you go." 

Just then Mr. Parker came in again. No more was said about 
England. He fixed on the day I was to come to Sands Street. I 
closed my last meeting at the "Mayflower" on Saturday night. 
There was a blessed work done, the result of which eternity alone 
will tell. 

On Sunday afternoon was our first meeting at Sands Street. 
The old church was crowded. Our first meeting was for the young 
people and children, and I began by asking the older people, 
strangers and all, here and there, all over the house, upstairs and 
down, as I would call them out, " Brother, how old were you when 
you gave your heart to the Lord? " Then I would ask a sister. 

There were some real gem testimonies to the grace of God, and 
this encouraged and helped the young people very much, so when 
I began our altar service it was not long till the altar was crowded, 
and many of the dear young people and children professed to have 



242 



Autobiography of 



found peace in believing that day. I spent a week, putting in two 
Sundays, and the Lord was with us and gave us blessing all 
through. Praise His name! 

At the close of this meeting Miss Price came up to me and 
spoke to me, and said, " Did you pray about what I told you? " 

T didn't recognize her at first, and I said, " About what? " 

"Don't you know Miss Price, that spoke to you on Monday 
about going to England? " 

"Oh,iyes, I do remember you now." 

" Well, did you pray about it? " 

"No," I said, "I did not," 

"Well," she said, "you must; I believe the Lord would have 
you go." 

So that night when I went home and got ready for bed, the 
thought came to me, " You know that lady told you to pray about 
going to England." I said, "Yes, that is so." 

I thought a moment and said to myself: 

" Go to England! Amanda Smith, the colored washwoman, 
go to England! No, I am not going to pray a bit; I have to ask 
the Lord for so many things that I really need, that I am not going 
to bother Him with what I don't need — to go to England. It does 
well enough for swell people to go, not for me." 

So, after I had this little talk all to myself, I said my prayers 
and went to bed. On Tuesday afternoon I was invited to tea to 
Brother Parker's. There were several others, also. Dr. Parker's 
brother, a young man, had just come from the old country. The 
Doctor was well pleased to receive him safe, so we were having a 
pleasant chat at the tea table. The young man was telling of his 
pleasant voyage across the sea. Then Dr. Parker told what a 
grand time he had when he came. He said .the sea was beautiful 
and calm as a mill pond. He told how they had idanced — the 
passengers I think he referred to; as he was a Methodist preacher, 
I don't suppose he indulged in dancing. 

I listened attentively to all, for I never knew the sea was calm. 
My idea of the great sea was that it was always rough and tossing. 
I know I used to sing that good old hymn: — 

" Like the rough sea that cannot rest/* 

So that was my best idea of the grand old ocean. I have 
learned a great deal about it since then. 



Amanda Smith. 



243 



Miss Price sat opposite at the table, and as she had crossed 
several times herself, she said, " There, Mrs. Smith, you see what 
a pleasant time we could have on board the steamer." 

"Yes, but it costs money to go to England, and none but swell 
folks can go." 

" You need not trouble about that," she said, "if you say you 
will go, I will see to that part." 

That was a new version of it, so that night when I went home, 
I knelt down and said, " Lord, if Thou dost want me to go to Eng- 
land, make it very clear and help me. I don't know what I would 
do there, I don't know anybody, but if Thou dost want me, Lord, 
I leave it all to Thee," and somehow — I can't explain it — but 
God made it so clear, and put it in my conscience so real and deep, 
that I could no more doubt that He wanted me to go to England, 
than I could doubt my own existence. I can't explain it, only I 
knew it, and I don't understand it now, but as high as the heavens 
are above the earth, so are His ways abo T ~e our ways, and His 
thoughts above our thoughts. 

When I was through at Sands Street, and was about to start to 
Ocean Grove, Miss Price said: 

" Now, Mrs. Smith, I am going to Philadelphia to see a friend 
married, and I will be back such a day, and you can write me." 

I went down to the grove, and I was sc glad to get there and 
have a little quiet and rest. I swept and dusted my room and 
opened the windows, and it was very pleasant. It was the first of 
April, and, as I thought it over, "Oh," I said, "after all, I think 
I can get more rest here than I can by going to England." 

Then as I looked out from my window and saw the great 
ocean, and heard the great waves roll in, I trembled. It came to 
me, " You need a good rest. Then there is Mazie, you can't leave 
her here alone." 

" Yes," I said, " that is so, I guess I won't go." So I did my 
washing and ironing and began my little sewing, mending and 
darning, and getting my clothes in order, and resting a little, for I 
took my time and didn't hurry, and so I went on for several days. 

Then a letter came from Miss Price, saying, " Let me know 
by return mail if you will go with me to England. If you will go, 
all right, if not, I will join a party of ladies who are going." 

A deep conviction came over me that I must go, but I said I 
had not rested half enough, and I didn't sleep well at night, I went 



244 



Autobiography of 



to bed tired and got up tired, then, beside, it is so far, three 
thousand miles away. " O, dear, I will write and tell Her no, she 
has got those ladies to go with, so that is all right." 

I sat down to answer the letter, and there was such a deep 
dread came over me as though I ought not to tell her I would not 
go, I could hardly write my letter. 

"Oh," I said, 44 what is the matter with me?" A whisper 
came to me: 

44 Don't write her, no." 

44 But I can't go, I must write." Soon I went, and I never 
wrote a letter with such a dread on me before in my life. I 
finished it, and took it to the postoffice and threw it into the 
letter box, and was so glad to get it out of my hand. Now, I said, 
I am free, and it seemed I was lightened for a little while, no sad 
feeling in my heart, no burden, everything gone. 

44 Oh," I said, 44 how much trouble that letter has given me, 
that is it." 

I made several calls before I went home, as I had been away 
for three months. Everywhere I called, the friends were glad to 
see me, and said, 44 Amanda Smith, teil us all about where you 
have been and about the work," and I had much to tell of what 
God had wrought. Then, to sing and pray. 

I did not go home till half past six, so I felt all that sadness is 
gone, I will have a nice tea and go to bed earty. 

I had been in the house about half an hour, I suppose, and my 
tea was about ready, and, all of a sudden, as when a gas jet is 
turned off, an avalanche of darkness seemed to come over me like 
the horror of darkness that came over Abraham. My heart sank, 
and great dread took possession of me. Every bit of desire for 
my supper left me, and I wanted nothing. 

,4 O, Lord," I said, 44 what is the matter with me? Do help me." 
Then I said, 44 1 don't mean to sleep to-night till I know what ails 
me." So I locked the doors and fastened the shutters and turned 
down my lamp very low, and got on my knees, and I said, 44 Now, 
Lord, I don't know the cause of this darkness, and I must know 
before I sleep, I am in for it all night, and I must know what the 
matter is." 

I wept bitterly, and prayed. Then I thought it may be I have 
grieved the Spirit in some way, in what I said, when I called. 
Then I went, in my thoughts, to each place, and went through all 



Amanda Smith. 



245 



the conversation, but, no, no condemnation there. Then I went 
through all my work, everyplace I had been, no, no condemnation; 
then, " Lord, what is it? " I prostrated myself full length on the 
floor, and wept and prayed as never before. I said, Lord, I must 
know what is the matter with me. A whisper, " Arise." I rose 
upon my knees by the chair, and said, "Now, Lord, I will be still. 
Tell me, I pray Thee, what the matter is," and, after a few 
moments' stillness, it was as though some one stood at my right 
side and said distinctly: 

" You are going about telling people to trust the Lord in the 
dark, to trust Him when they can't see Him." 

"Yes, Lord, I have done so." 

"Well, you tell other people to do what you are not willing to 
do yourself." 

" O, Lord." I said, "that is mean, and by Thy grace I will not 
tell anybody to do what I am not willing to do myself. Xow, Lord, 
what is it ? " And clear and distinct came these words, " You are 
afraid to trust the Lord and go to England, you are afraid of the 
ocean." 

My! it took my breath, but I said, "Lord, that is the truth, 
the real truth." Of course it was. 

In a moment, in panorama form, God's goodness seemed to pass 
before me, and His faithfulness in leading me and providing for 
me in every way, and answering my prayer a thousand times, and 
now, to think I should be afraid to trust Him and go to England. 
Oh, such a sense of shame a. billed me. I prostrated myself on the 
floor again, I felt I could never look up again in His dear face and 
pray. I never can describe the awful sense of shame that seemed 
to fill me, and I cried out, "Lord, forgive me, for Jesus' sake, and 
give me another chance, and I will go to England." 

Then I thought, " If I write and tell Miss Price that I will go, 
she is a stranger, and she may think I am fickle-minded and she 
won't know how to depend on me, but if the Lord will give me 
another chance, I will go alone. I pledge Thee Lord, you may 
trust me, I will obey." 

" What about your child? " 

Then I saw myself on the steamer in a big storm, and the ship 
wrecked; it was so real, I heard the timbers crack, heard the thun- 
ders roll, saw the lightning, saw and heard the people screaming. 
Oh, it was awful. Then a telegram came to say the ship was lost. 



246 



Autobiography of 



Then my daughter got the news, then I saw her frantic and wild 
with grief! It was all as real as life, and my head seemed to swim, 
and I cried, " O, Lord, help me, I give my child to Thee, Thou 
canst take care of her." 

Then I thought if she should get sick — well, the quickest 
word I could get would be by telegram, and if I should get to 
England, and the} 7 should send a telegram that she was sick, I 
knew what that would mean, it would mean she was dead. Oh, 
how I felt! 

Then I thought it all over, and said to myself, ' ' What if she 
were to be sick and die, and I could not be with her to do for her 
while she was sick, and pray and help her. If she were dead there 
would be no use of my coming home, for she would be buried before 
I could get to her, and then there would be no need of my coming." 
I saw it all, and I said, " Lord, help me, I will obey Thee." 

All of my sisters and brothers that were then living, came 
before me, one by one, six in number, and I saw each sink and die, 
and I went to the funeral of each of them, there on my knees, as 
real as ever I went to a funeral in my life, and I said, "Lord, 
help me." 

"But," I said, "to stay here and disobey God — I can't afford 
to taKe the consequence, I would rather go and obey God than to 
stay here and know that I disobeyed." Then this hymn came: — 

" Lord, obediently I'll go, 
Gladly leaving all below, 
Only Thou my leader be, 
And I still will follow Thee." 

Then there came such a flood of light and sweet peace that 
filled me with joy and gladness, and I sang and praised the Lord, 
for I felt He had dealt bountifully with me in great mercy. 

In the course of a week or so T went to see Miss Price off. She 
sailed by one of the beautiful ships of the White Star Line. It 
was like a floating palace. I had never seen anything like it on 
water; it was magnificent. I thought what a mistake I have 
made. "Oh, Lord, you may trust me, I will go alone if you will 
give me another chance," So I went home. 

A week or two later I had a letter from Mrs. Mary C. Johnson, 
saying, "Mr. Johnson and I expect to sail for England such a day 
in May, and would be glad to take you under our wing." 



Amanda Smith. 



24? 



" Well," I thought, " this is very nice. Mrs. Johnson is such 
a nice lady, and she and Mr. Johnson have ahvays been so kind to 
me, and I don't know of anyone I would rather go with than with 
them." 

From the date of the letter I saw it would only give me a littie 
over a week to get ready and I could not do it; then I got down on 
my knees and spread the letter on a chair and said, " Lord, Thou 
knowest I will be true and go alone, but I can't get ready and go 
with Mrs. Johnson, though I would so like to do so. I want to go 
to Baltimore and see Mazie, and tell her about it;" and then I 
prayed the Lord to quiet her and prepare her so she could not feel 
she could not let me go, and He did it. praise His name! 

I wanted to go and see my brother that I had not seen in thirty 
years; he was my oldest brother, living in York. Pennsylvania; 
and a younger brother I had seen a few months before; he lived in 
Tonawanda. but my brother William Tolbert I had not seen in 
thirty years; so I said it is all right. I will write and tell Mrs. 
Johnson to write me when she gets to England and tell me how 
things look. 

Some time before, I was in Boston at Mr. Moody's meeting; it 
was the last week of his meetings. There Mrs. Johnson told me 
that she had a deep conviction that the Lord had a work for me 
in Great Britain, but I gave no thought to it, so that Mr. and Mrs. 
Johnson were off in a few weeks. As soon as she got to England 
she wrote me and told me of the Keswick Convention, which 
answers to one of our holiness camp meetings in this country, but 
there the phraseology is changed a little, and they call it a con- 
vention for the deepening of spiritual life. This meeting was 
begun by that good man, R. P. Smith, years ago, and they are 
held every year. God certainly blest him in starting this conven- 
tion, if nothing else was accomplished. 

Numerous other meetings all over the L'nited Kingdom have 
been productive of marvelous good, the record of which is in 
eternity, only. 

A sad night for me. I think if Satan ever did have anything 
to do with mosquitoes he certainly had that night. Sunday was 
another hot day; the heat was something fearful. I walked to 
and from church, about five miles' distance, I think, but it seemed 
much longer because of the intense heat. 

"Well," I said, " I will not go out this evening. " So I went up 



248 



Autobiography of 



to my room and lay down and tried to rest; but here the mos- 
quitoes and flies seemed to join together. Oh, I felt I should go 
wild. I tried to pray, but, Oh, the poisonous mosquitoes did 
nothing but sing, first in one ear and then the other, then a sharp 
nip. 

"Oh, dear, I can't stand it." So up I got. I said, "It is too 
far to go down to Bethel Chuch to-night, I will go into this white 
Methodist Church." 

I was so wearied, I said, "Lord, do help me." When I went 
downstairs my aunt said to me, " Where are you going? " 

"To church." 

"I thought you said you were not going out again." 
"Yes, but I am going into this white Methodist Church, on 
Exeter street." 

She was surprised. 

"We never go to the white people's church here. I would 
laugh if they put you out." 

"Well," I said, "they will have it to do to-night for I am 
going." 

I was glad she did not want to go, for her skin was very thin, 
and I thought if there was any unpleasantness I could bear it 
better than she could; so out I went, a half an hour before the 
time. The church was beautiful; the lights were burning dimly 
and it was so cool and quiet. The sexton was very pleasant and 
spoke to me, but did not tell me to go into the gallery — the custom 
used to be where colored people went to church they went into the 
gallery — so, as he said nothing, I walked in and went three or four 
pews from the door. 

"If they put me out," I said, "I will have a good strut, and 
everybody can see me." 

Well, in the quiet I began to think and pray. Somehow, I 
felt the Lord had sent me there to teach me some lesson, and I 
said, " Lord, what is it that Thou wantest me to learn, for surely 
Thou dost mean something by all this?" So there I sat, praying 
earnestly. 

By and by, the people began to gather, then two very nicely 
dressed ladies walked in and stood at my pew. I turned and looked 
them squarely in the face "so they could see I was of the royal 
black, but they looked pleasant, so I arose and they passed in. 
There were plenty of vacant pews on the opposite side and further 



Amanda Smith. 



249 



ahead. I don't know why they preferred that one unless for the 
peculiar fascination that seems to gather about royalty! 

After a while the minister came in, the lights were turned up. 
Oh, how pretty it was, and the minister passed up into the pulpit 
and prayed, then announced the hymn. They sang, then a very 
earnest prayer, and all the usual preliminaries. All this time I 
prayed the Lord to teach me the lesson He wanted me to learn. 
When the minister arose and announced his text, he said: " M} T 
text will be found in Philippians 4:19, ' My God shall supply all of 
your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus;' " and 
the Spirit said to me clearly, ''That is the lesson for you, " and 
the emphasis seemed to be on the need, "My God shall supply all 
your need," and I saw it, what it all meant. 

After I went home from church, in Baltimore, m} T aunt said 
to me, "Well, how did you make out? " 

"The Lord has taught me the lesson He wanted I should 
learn," I replied. " I am so glad I went." 

When I saw how near I came to breaking my covenant with 
God, I was alarmed; I slept very little that night. 

Next morning I was up betimes and was off to the train. 
They said it was the nine-thirty that left Baltimore. They said 
it was the lightning express; its destination was York, Pennsyl- 
vania. It made but two stops, at Wilmington, Philadelphia, and 
York. I felt I never wanted to go in that train again. Oh, it was 
so swift, as I looked out of the window it seemed to me the trees 
and posts would cut my eyes out, the speed was something fearful. 
I held on to myself, and said, "Lord, if Thou wilt help me I will 
never disobey again/' 

I got to York, spent the night with my brother, next day held 
a meeting at one o'clock in the Methodist Church, and left at half- 
past two for Philadelphia, got home, went out and bought my 
trunk and packed it, and at seven p. m. I locked my door and 
dropped my key in the letter box and started for Horton street to 
my friend's, Mrs. Kenney. I met Mrs. B. and told her I was going 
to England to be gone three months, and I wanted her to look after 
my house till I came back. 

"All right," she said. 

I bade her good-bye, and so passed on. The next morning, 
Wednesday, at eight o'clock, I went on board the steamer "Ohio." 
Captain Morris in command. He was a perfect gentleman and 



250 



Autobiography of 



very kind tc me. Through my dear friend, Mrs. Kenney, I had 
got my ticket all right, seventy dollars, first class, of course. 

There were quite a number of aristocratic passengers, and I, 
being a colored woman and alone, there was quite a little inquiry 
who I was, what I was going to England for, etc. I must say I 
did feel somewhat embarrassed. Several of the passengers asked 
me if I had ever been in England. 

"No," I said. 

"Are you going on business?" 
" No, not special." 

" Do you expect friends to meet you? " 
"Well, no." 

Then such a critical smile and remark. They would go away 
and would talk it over with two or more others and pass com- 
ments, and after a while another would come and put the same 
question in another form. 

" You are going to Paris, I suppose? " 

" No, I don't expect to go to Paris." 

"I suppose you are going to join the Jubilee Singers. No 
doubt, you find this an expensive passage, Mrs. Smith? " 

" Yes, seventy dollars was what I paid for my passage." 

" You have friends that will meet you in England? " 

"Well, no, I don't know that anyone will meet me." 

Then I would tell them of my friend, Mrs. Mary C. Johnson, 
and Miss Price, and how it all came about, and they would seem 
to be so astonished to think I would be such a fool as to go to 
England on such a testimony. An old Quaker gentleman was the 
only one that really seemed to know about the leading of the 
Spirit, and he spoke for me on one or two occasions. Some of the 
ladies remarked that I should have gone steerage, and it would 
not have cost me so much. 

They didn't know but I was a suspicious being of some kind, 
so this worried me a little, and one day I went into my cabin and 
got down on my knees, and said, " Now, Lord, these people ask me 
so many questions. If I tell them that Thou hast sent me to 
England, they don't understand it; and now, Lord, don't let them 
ask me any more questions. Stop them; take the curiosity out of 
them; make them let me alone, for Jesus' sake. Amen." 

I got up and went on deck, and not a soul from that hour 
asked me any more questions, not one the whole voyage. "If ye 
shall ask anything in My name, I will do it," 



Amanda Smith. 



251 



"Are we weak and heavy laden, 
Cumbered with a load of care. 
Precious Saviour, still our refuge, 

Take it to the Lord in prayer." Amen. 

We were all pretty sick the first two days. The third day one 
of the waiters, a very nice, kind lad, helped me on deck. When 
the captain saw me he came to me, and said, " How are you, Mrs. 
Smith?" 

"I am feeling better, captain, thank you." 
Then he took a seat by me, and said, " Mrs. Smith, have you 
had proper treatment? " 

"Yes, captain, thank you." 

He said, "If you have any unpleasantness from any one on 
this ship, I want you to report to me." 
" I thank you, sir, I will do so." 

But I had no complaint to make. The stewardess was very 
kind, which any one could not help appreciating when traveling 
on shipboard. She would bring my lunch or meals up on deck, 
just as she did the others, and I had many pleasant talks with her. 

The first Sunday we were out nearly all the passengers were 
laid up by seasickness. Out of the twenty or more lady passen- 
gers. I think there was not one up on deck till late in the afternoon, 
but the following Sunday we were all well and up and out. 

The Quaker gentleman and his son were the only two that 
really seemed to take much to me, outside the curious questions 
that were asked. Then the gentleman and lady that sat* next me 
at the table — they were from Philadelphia, — were both very 
agreeable and made it very pleasant for me, and this I appreciated 
very much. 

The Quaker gentleman and his son were very much interested 
in me when they learned I was, as the Friends say, "a preacher 
woman." " The old gentleman told me much about the usages 
among the Society of Friends. He said the Friends had always 
stood clear on the part of female preaching, and he said he was 
very proud of them. I had never met him before, and he did not 
know that colored women ever worked in that sphere. He encour- 
aged me, and told me to go forward. Then he spoke to the cap- 
tain about holding services. 

There were five doctors on board, and no preacher among 
them. Most of the passengers were Episcopalians and Presby- 



252 



Autobiography of 



terians, all very nice, but very aristocratic, so these gentlemen 
came and asked me if I would take the service. I told them I 
would if the captain thought it would be agreeable. I did not 
want to do anything that would not be perfectly agreeable to all. 
Then they went around and inquired, and everybody was willing. 
They thought, anything to break the monotony and have a novel 
entertainment. 

The captain came to me himself and said he would be very 
glad if I would take the service. He would have the saloon 
arranged. I told him i would do so if he thought it would be 
best. He assured me that It would be all right, so everything 
was arranged. First bell was rung; it did seem real churchified! 
How the smiles and whispers went around among the passengers, 
" The colored woman is going to preach. " All were invited down 
into the saloon, then the second bell was rung. Many of the second 
cabin and some of the steerage passengers came in. Those from 
the steerage were most of them Romanists, but all behaved rever- 
ently except one or two poor, ignorant persons. 

The Episcopal prayer and hymn books were placed all around 
the long tables, and I did not know a bit how to proceed with that 
service, so I turned to my Quaker friend, for he and his son stood 
by me ready to assist in anything but to sing or pray, and he spoke 
to the captain, who said I should go on in my own way. So I gave 
out a hymn that was familiar, and they all joined as I started the 
tune. If I had dared to ask some one to pray I would, but if I had 
it would only have been an embarrassment to any one but an old 
time Methodist, so I looked to God for strength and prayed myself , 
then I sang from the Winnowed Hymns that beautiful song, 
" Jesus of Nazareth Passeth By." 

The Lord blest the singing and it captured their attention, and 
before I got through I saw a number of them were touched, but 
how I prayed that morning for Divine help, and it surely came. 

I opened my Bible at the 14th chapter of John, and said, " 1 
will not preach, but I want to talk a little from this dear old 
chapter," so I talked on for over half an hour with perfect liberty 
and freedom. Then I prayed, and as I spoke to the Lord the sev- 
eral passengers came before me, those that were sick, and friends 
left behind, the captain and officers that had been so kind, and so 
on, as the Spirit prompted the prayer, so I prayed. When I got 
through we sang the Doxology. 



Amanda Smith. 



253 



Oh, how it changed the spirit of the passengers. Ladies and 
gentlemen that had not even said good morning to me before, 
came to me and thanked me for what I said, and especially for 
the prayer. They shook hands and were so interested, and said. 
** Lord bless you." 

There was a great swell doctor who belonged to the United 
States Navy — he and his wife and two children. His wife and 
children were very nice, but from the remarks of some of the 
passengers he seemed to act as though he thought the passengers 
on that steamer ought to feel they were highly honored that so 
great a passenger as he, doctor in the L'nited States Navy, was 
aboard that ship. 

The two little girls were sweet little things, aged, I should 
think, about nine and six years: they seemed to take quite a fancy 
to me. They had no nurse with them, so I would amuse them, 
and we had a pleasant time, but whenever the doctor was around 
he would call them away. He would seem to feel so uncomfort- 
able that they should be so stupid as to notice a black woman. I 
used to smile as I would see his maneuvers. 

When I got to Liverpool I knew nothing about the Custom 
House. All the ladies had gentlemen to look after their baggage, 
and as there is alwas a commotion when we get in. so I said, 
" Lord, I have no one to look after my baggage or do anything for 
me, now help me and keep me quiet, and just help me through 
with everything. " 

The good doctor seemed to take special pains to hinder me. 
He had a good deal of baggage to be examined. I had but one 
trunk, he had three officers. I waited: then I saw a chance, and 
I just spoke to one of the men. and pointed out my trunk: just 
then the good doctor stepped right in front of me. clapped the man 
on the arm, took him away so roughly, so I waited till all were 
pretty well through. The doctor got in his cab and was off. Then 
the man turned to me and said. " Madame, this is your trunk? " 

" Yes, sir," I said. 

" I suppose you have no tobacco nor cigars, nor books? " 

"No, no," was my reply. 

" Well, all right, where do you want to go? " 

"Lime Street Station, sir/' 

He whistled for a cab, I locked my trunk, and a moment more 
J was off. 



254 



Autobiography of Amanda Smith. 



My cab overtook and passed the good doctor. As I passed I 
looked out and waved my hand with a polite bow and rolled by, 
leaving the doctor behind, and instead of smiling like a good fellow 
and bidding me God speed, he simply frowned and seemed to bite 
his lip. I have never seen him since, poor fellow! 



CHAPTER XX 



LIME STREET STATION, LIVERPOOL, EXGLAXD, AND THE RECEPTION 
I MET WITH THERE — PAGES FROM MY DIARY. 

I had to wait about two hours. I went to Keswick, where the 
big Conference is held every summer. Cannon Battersby was the 
rector of St. John's Church, and was President of the Convention. 
A holy man of God, he was. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson were there. 
They had spoken of me. so that everyone seemed to be expecting me. 

Just before we got to Keswick I had to change cars and wait 
about an hour. The day was beautiful, and this was about four 
o'clock in the afternoon. I was a curiosity. How the people did 
look at me. I thought I would buy me a newspaper, and then 
they wouldn't look at me so much, but, lo and behold, that only 
made it worse. They seemed to wonder what in the world I was 
going to do with a newspaper. Then I walked up and down, then 
they walked up and down, as though they wondered what I was 
walking up and down for. They were very respectful; they did 
not laugh and make remarks like they would have done in this 
country, but they seemed to look as though they pitied me. By 
and by the train came in, and two ladies got out and one of them 
walked up to me and said, "Why, Amanda Smith." 

"Well," I thought, " who in the world here knows me." I 
said, "Yes, madam, that is my name;" and holding on to my 
hand, she said, laughingly, " Don't you know me? " 

"I know your face, madam, but cannot place you." 

She still laughed and said, " Look at me." 

"Oh, madam, do please tell me who you are." 

" You held meetings with me at Sea Cliff, and New York. 
You spoke at a ladies' meeting in New T York that I held once at 
Dr. C.'s church one afternoon." 

No, I could not think. Then she said, " You don't know Mrs. 
Dr. Bordman." 

(255) 



256 



Autobiography of 



" Oh, dear Mrs. Bordman, is it you, the joy of my heart? * 

"Where are you going? " she asked. 

" To Keswick Convention." 

"Why, that is just where we are going." 

Then she introduced me to the lady that was with her ana t»<? 
had a beautiful time and pleasant journey to Keswick. 

The house where Mrs. B. and her friend had lodged was full, 
but they said they thought to get me a place near by. 

Of course no one knew I was really coming. I had got Mrs. 
Johnson's letter telling me all about how to come, but I had no 
time to write and tell her I had decided to do so. so, in a little 
while after we had got to the house, dear Dr. Bordman went to 
see about my lodgings. It was in St. John's Lane. The landlady 
told him she could accommodate me for the night, but the next 
day she was expecting two young men who had engaged the rooms. 
So I went off to my lodgings. 

The lady was a very pleasant old lady, a widow. She was quite 
alone, but had such a pretty home, like so many one sees in 
England. The room was large; everything was elegant and rich, 
but old-fashioned: high bedstead, with heavy curtains around. I 
was glad when the night came, to go to bed. I had never been so 
long in such close quarters as in the cabin on the steamer, and I 
longed to have a good, free time without shaking. It was July, 
dreadfully hot here in America, but so cool in England that I could 
sleep with the windows closed and under a blanket. 

"My! I never knew the luxury of an English feather-bed till 
that night. Oh, it was so elegant, a great big English feather-bed, 
I had never seen anything like it, though I had seen many a large 
feather bed here in America. I lay all over it. I said, V I want 
to get the benefit of this feather-bed, I will only have it for one 
night." 

My! what a nice sleep I had; how refreshed and rested I was 
the next morning; how full of praise my heart was to God for His 
kindness in bringing me safely to England and giving me such a 
token of His favor among the people that received me; I shall 
never forget it. 

I got up next morning, did up my room, and was to go to Mrs. 
Bordman's to have my breakfast with them. Before going out I 
thought to myself how I should like to stay here; it just seems 
like as if this is the place the Lord wants me to be, but the lady 



Amanda Smith. 



25? 



has said she could accommodate me only for the night, and of 
course I can't ask her when she has said she expects the young 
men. Then I got down on my knees and said my prayers, and I 
said, ''Now, Lord, this seems like the very place that Thou dost 
want me to stay; now, Thou canst manage so that I can stay here, 
and if it really is Thy will, put it in the lady's heart when I go 
down stairs to tell me I can stay. I don't want to ask her. She 
has been so kind, and I am a stranger: but, Lord, I believe that 
Thou canst manage it for me; surely Thou canst if it is Thy will, 
so I leave it with Thee. Amen." 

Somehow, my heart was so quiet and full of peace, I felt the 
Lord would do it, and yet it seemed so strange that He should. I 
took my bag in my hand and went down. When I got down stairs 
I met the lady. She bade me good morning and asked me how I 
slept. I told her, beautifully; I was so refreshed from the com- 
fortable night's sleep. Then she said to me. " I have just had a 
telegram from one of the young men that was to come, and he has 
met with a friend he has not seen for a long time, so he is going to 
stay with him, and the other young man is going with a friend of 
his; so the room will be vacant and you can stay." 

Oh, I came near shouting right out, but I knew if I did she 
would think I was wild, so I did say, praise the Lord; but I wanted 
to dance for joy. Oh. how wonderfully God provided for me. I 
went down and told Mrs. Bordman, and we had a good time 
praising the Lord together. 

The meeting was held in a big tent in an open lot. There 
were crowds of poople. As I walked down to the tent and heard 
the singing, it all seemed very much like home. I was introduced 
by Mrs. J. to Canon Battersby. No one acted as though I was a 
black woman, I don't suppose they would have treated Mrs. 
President of the United States with more Christian courtesy and 
cordiality than they did me. After the preaching service was over I 
was introduced by Canon Battersby, and was asked to lead the after 
meeting. There were clergymen and workers all around, and I 
felt at first a little awkward. I thought I would never get hold of 
the way they did things; and they told me just to go right on in 
my own way, just as I was accustomed to do in America, and they 
would stand by and assist in anything I wished them to do. 

So after talking awhile, I asked those who wanted personal 
conversion and prayer to stand, and a great number arose all over 



258 



Autobiography of 



the tent. I was a little surprised, but I kept looking to the Lord; 
then I said to the workers and clergymen, " Now, there is a great 
work to do; these souls must be spoken to, helped and prayed with. 
I want that all of you should go around and speak to them." 
Then I said, " If there are those who would like to come forward 
and kneel here, they may do so," though I saw that that was not 
the custom. 

A few came to the front, and in a moment the clergymen and 
workers were all out in the congregation kneeling and praying 
with the seekers. By and by one would call out, "Mrs. Smith, 
here is a soul that has found peace in believing in Jesus/' 

That one would stand up and say a word, and then an- 
other would call out, "And here is another who wants to say a 
word," another and another would call out " Here's another," so 
I praised the Lord; and I remember how I was taken back, for I 
struck in to sing the old Coronation the way we sang it in 
America, "All Hail the Power of Jesus' Name," but no one 
joined, and I thought it was so strange. I went on with the first 
verse. I knew how it would have rung out at home, but I could 
not understand why they didn't sing; surely they must know it. 
They did, but the tune they sing in England is entirely different 
from that which is sung here. 

There was a good Wesleyan brother that was speaking to 
those that were forward, and I turned to him and said, "Why 
don't they sing? " He says, " They dont know the tune." Then 
I said, "You start it to the tune they all know." And so he did. 

My! how they sung it! And I learned that tune, though I did 
not like it at first; but now I do. Of course it don't beat the 
American tune, but still it is grand. Praise the Lord. 

I don't know just the number that professed to receive peace 
that night, but I know it was a goodly number. To God be all 
the glory. That was my first work in England. 

A few days later on I met some ladies from Liverpool who 
were members of Christ's Church, Everton, where Rev. Hay 
Adken was formerly rector. They had a large mothers' meeting. 
This lady, Mrs. Stavely, wanted to know if I would come to Liv- 
erpool and hold some meetings. I told her I would see about it 
and let her know later on. She was very pleasant, and I got to 
know her afterwards very well. She is among the dearest friends 
I have in England to-day. Her house is one of my homes. She 



Amanda Smith. 



259 



received the blessing of full salvation when Rev. John Inskip and 
Mac Donald were in England and went on their tour around the 
world. 

Then Mrs. Johnson introduced me to a Mrs. Stephen Menzes, 
of Eggleston Hills, just out of Liverpool. She is a wonderful lady, 
does a marvelous work for the Young Women's Christian Associa- 
tion, and was its first organizer, I think. She invited Mrs. 
Johnson and some other friends to the hotel to dine, and invited 
me to meet these friends. They were very much interested to 
know my history and birth — if I was a slave, etc. 

Then Mrs. Menzes arranged for me to come to Eggleston Hills. 
They had a large hall and did great work among the laboring 
class. 

A day or so after that Canon Hopkins came to me with a 
letter from Lord Mount Temple, of Broadlands, in which his 
lordship invited me to their convention, to be held in August at 
Broadlands. I thanked him very kindly, of course. I didn't know 
who Lord Mount Temple was. I didn't know anything about 
Broadlands. Then I said, " Oh, I have heard Mrs. Johnson and 
Mrs. Bordman speak of it; I suppose they are all going, and Miss 
Smiley." 

He smiled and said, "You are invited, Mrs. Smith." 

I knew they had all been there, so I thanked him. I went 
home and told Mrs. Bordman of it, and she was very kind, but 
said she didn't think it was at all the thing for me to go to this 
convention. Well, I didn't know. I knew Mrs. Bordman was a 
good woman, and she would only say what she thought would be 
best for me. She said the doctrines and truths that were taught 
there were rather deep, and it might do me harm, and she only 
wanted to shield me. 

Well, I could not understand it. I went upstairs to my room, 
took my Bible, got on my knees and began to pray the Lord to 
show me what His will was in regard to it. Clear and plain as my 
right hand, though I can't explain, but God showed me it was 
right I should go, so I thought no more of it. 

Afterwards I told Mrs. Johnson. Oh, she thought it was dread- 
ful; surely I must not go by any means. I prayed on. Clearer and 
clearer it came I was to go. I was invited to a Mr. Brath wait's, at 
Kendall, a very wealthy Quaker gentleman. Miss Smiley and Mrs. 
Johnson were there at the same time. 



2G0 



Autobiography of 



One day MissS. came into my room — it was next hers — and 
said she felt impressed to come and warn me by no means to go to 
Broadlands. The Lord had always kept me so simple, and she had 
known of some who had been there who had got into a good deal 
of confusion in regard to these deep truths; the teaching there was 
so deep. Mrs. Johnson went out one morning, and when she came 
back she said she had word from Mrs. Menzes and that she was 
looking for me, and that I must surely go; anyhow, it wouldn't do 
for me to go to Broadlands, she was quite sure the Lord didn't 
want me there. 

I could not make them understand it, but the more I prayed 
about it the clearer it was to my mind. Oh, I can't understand 
why they should hinder me, but I knew they did. I had told Mrs. 
Menzes when she first spoke to me, that I had been spoken to about 
this place, but that I could give four days before I went, if that 
would do, but after Mrs. J. came back a telegram came to me 
from Mrs. Menzes, saying that they would expect me on such a 
train, that meetings ■ were arranged, so I went. 

Mrs. Menzes met me at the station in her carriage. To my 
surprise, the first thing I saw were large placards with my name 
on, up against the railway station: " Amanda Smith, the converted 
slave girl, willsing and hold gospel meetings in Victoria Hall," 
giving the days and dates which I saw directly, interfered with 
the time I was to go to Broadlands Conference, so I saw I was 
entirely planned out. 

I said to Mrs. Menzes, " I have promised to go to Broadlands 
Conference, I told Mr. Hopkins that I would go, I remember that 
I told you I had. " 

"Well," she said, "you are advertised 'now and you can't 
possibly gi, it will injure your influence greatly as a stranger, 
here in England. We think a great deal of it if you do not go when 
you are advertised." 

Oh, how bad I felt. I was greatly tempted, and lelt if I had 
had the money I would like to come home, but this was only a 
temptation, though I didn't get to Broadlands that year; but the 
next year I did. Lord Mount Temple and Lady Beechman, and a 
number of others, came to Mr. Charlton's East End Mission one 
night where I was holding services and invited me again in per- 
son, and then, through the kindness of Mr. Edwin Clifford, Esq., 
I got to Broadlands, according to the will of the Lord. 



Amanda Smith. 



Oh, how He blest me, and, I believe, made me a blessing to the 
people. I shall never forget the kindness of his Lordship and Lady 
Mount Temple. I was their guest in their home. Oh, what a 
home it was! how spacious, a regular palace. 

When I went into dinner, Lord Mount Temple walked up to 
me and gave me his arm, and saying, "We will lead the way," 
took me into dinner and seated me at his right, and there I was, 
amid all that throng of English dignitaries. It was all new to me, 
in a sense, and yet I neither saw nor felt anything that was worth 
while being a fool over, for God had long since saved me, I believe, 
from foolish pride. 

I believe it now, as I always believed it, in the Book: "Pride 
goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall," and 
if I ever prayed for God to save me from anything, it was from the 
foolishness of pride. Thank God, I believe he does, he keeps me 
saved. 

I remember one morning in the conservatory where the morn- 
ing meeting was held, Rev. Mr. Jukes and Mr. Geo. Mac Donald 
gave a Bible reading. I saw nothing strange in it, it was beautiful 
to me. After this was over the meeting opened for those to testify 
who had received any special blessing. Mr. E. Clifford and I had 
held a very interesting Gospel meeting on the evening before, so 
that when the meeting was opened for testimony there were a 
number who testified. 

I felt the Lord laid it on me to give a bit of my own personal 
experience, how God converted and sanctified my heart, so I spoke, 
and the power of the Spirit seemed to come mightily upon all the 
people. Oh, what a stir; they wept and sobbed, and one woman 
was so baptized that she cried out and could not restrain herself. 
How the Lord helped me that morning. This work was very real 
in many hearts; even after I came from Africa I met a woman in 
Liverpool one night in the train, who said to me, "Do you remember 
the morning you spoke at Broadlands and gave your experience? " 

"Yes." 

" Do you remember some one crying out?' ' 
"Yes." 

" Well," she said, " that was I. Oh, God filled me that morn- 
ing and I have never gotten over it, the trials have been severe, 
but, Oh, I have been saved and kept and I am full of praise to-day. 
I am glad to see you, praise the Lord." 



2m 



Autobiography of 



Her face was beaming with joy. That is only one instance, 
I don't know how many more, but God does, and that is enough. 
Amen. 

I met with some things that were a little strange, but they 
didn't affect me any; for example: One morning after the break- 
fast was over, and after the prayer, we retired to the drawing 
room. Dr. Moxey and several others were in a verv interesting 
conversation in regard to advanced views of spiritual things. One 
young clergyman, whose name I don't remember now, was saying, 
that somewhere in the part of the country where he lived he and 
his wife had attended some meetings where they were praying for 
the conversion of the Devil. Some one turned to me and said, 
" What do you think of that, Mrs. Smith? " 

"Well," I said, 'anybody that wants to do that is quite wel- 
come as far as I am concerned, but I think he has a pretty big job 
on hand." 

"Well," said they, "don't you see what a good thing it would 
be, Mrs. Smith, if only the Devil could be converted; you, and — 
referring to another evangelist that was present — and many other 
persons who, are working so hard to get people saved, wouldn't 
have your work so often destroyed, for after all your work, he often 
upsets it all." 

"Yes," I said, "I guess I will wait and see how you all 
come out." 

Now, I didn't see anything in that that was so mysterious. 
The most mystery I saw about it was that people should spend 
time in such foolishness, when there is so much they might do 
that would be of permanent good. 

After I got to England, the first money that was given me, 
about three days after, was five pound sterling and something 
over, equal to about twenty-five dollars. Some ladies at Keswick, 
said to Mrs. Johnson, "Who supports Mrs. Smith?" Of course 
they didn't tell me this, but they asked Mrs. Johnson all about it. 
She told them that I just trusted the Lord to supply all my needs, 
and so it went around quietly. 

Mrs. J. came to me one morning and said to me, " Amanda, it 
is wonderful how the Lord is putting it into the hearts of the peo- 
ple to help you financially. Several have come to me and put in 
my hand money for you." 

I thanked her very much. 



Amanda Smith. 



263 



"Several ladies have said they would hand me something this 
afternoon, when I get it together I will give it to you." 

So when she handed it to me it was the amount that I have 
spoken of. Then I saw it was in direct answer to prayer, as T had 
asked the Lord on my way. 

"Lord,'* I said, " confirm my coming to England by putting 
it into the hearts of the people to give me some money to help me 
after I get there, I am a stranger, no one knows me except Mrs. J."' 

This is what I said to the Lord while I was on the steamer, 
and, now, three days after I land, this is the result. Surely the 
Lord is good. It is all wonderful, but it is just like Him. Blessed 
be His name. 

Friday, Sept, 26th, 1878. This is a day that I had to regret. 
I had been invited to Lord Mount Temple's, through Rev. Mr. 
Hopkins, to go to the Broadlands Conference. Whtn I told it to 
my dear American friends who were there, they thought it would 
not do for me to go at all. They said the teaching at that Confer- 
ence was so deep, and they were afraid I would be confused, and 
it would not be good for me. And then, besides, for one like me 
to be entertained where there was so much elegance and style, it 
might make me proud and turn my head. But, poor things! they 
didn't know that I had always been used to a good deal of that, 
though in the capacity of a servant; so that no style or grandeur 
affected me at all. 

But notwithstanding this invitation to me came directly from 
Lord Mount Temple's, they protested against my going. I prayed 
about it, and the Lord made it very clear to me that He wanted 
me at Broadlands. But as I was a stranger, and they had been in 
England longer than I had, I yielded, but thought quietly in my 
mind that I would go anyhow. 

But they so arranged it that I was to go to St. Helens, and 
take some meetings at Victoria Hall, at Mrs. Menzes'. And when 
I got there they had advertised me beyond the date when I was to 
go to Broadlands. And though I told them I had promised to go 
to Broadlands before, Mrs. Menzes said it would not do at all, 
after I was advertised; I would lose my influence for good; that 
that was one of the things they were very particular about in 
England. I knew nothing about the advertisement myself, and 
had nothing to do with it; but that I could not explain. So I did 
not go to Broadlands till the next year. 



264 



Autobiography of 



Monday. 29th. Quite a party of us take a carriage drive to 
Buttermere mountains. Oh, such a sight my eyes never beheld. 
The beauty and grandeur beggar description. 

Wednesday, 31st. Had a nice meeting. Took a sixteen mile 
drive. Went to see the old church — seventeen hundred years old. 
I never saw antiquities in such profusion before. 

Thursday, Aug. 1st. Tired, but saved. Go to Kendel, to Mr. 
Brathwaite's, Mr. Brathwaite is a very wealthy Quaker gentle- 
man. I shall never forget their beautiful home, and their kindness 
to me, a stranger. God bless them. There 1 met Mrs. Johnson and 
Miss Smiley. Dear Miss Smiley, how solicitous she was for me! 
She came into my room one day and said she felt impressed to say 
to me that she thought I should not go to Broadlands. The Lord 
had blessed me so much, and it would be such a pity if I were 
to go there and be spoilt. Poor thing, how kind she was! 

Saturday, Aug. 3d. I leave Keswick to-day for St. Helens. 
Arrive about three o'clock in the afternoon. Mrs. Menzes met 
me at the station with the carriage. The first thing that struck 
me when I got out of the carriage was large bills pasted up, beau- 
tiful pink paper, with black letters: "Mrs. Amanda SmdtJi, the 
Converted Slave from America, will g ire Gospel Addresses and Sing in 
Victoria Hall for so many days." My knees felt very weak, but 
there I was in for it. 

Sunday, 4th. My first day at the Hall. It is a large hall, 
holding from six to eight hundred persons. It was right in a 
Roman Catholic settlement, and I was quite a novelty, being a 
woman, and a black woman, at that. So at night the meeting 
was crowded. But of all the audiences that I ever spoke to, I 
never before saw one so mixed — women with shawls over their 
heads, some with nothing on their heads at all, some barefoot, 
men and women respectable looking, others far from it, but on the 
whole all behaved well. Then there was a crowd that had gath- 
ered at the door to see me when I came out, and they almost pulled 
the clothes off of me. It took four policemen to get me into the 
carriage, while the driver sat on the box and cut right and left 
with his whip to keep the way clear while he started. Of all the 
unearthly yells I ever heard, they gave them. This was all new 
to me. I had been around a good deal in America, and had been 
to many large meetings where there were thousands, but I had 
never seen anything like this before. 



Amanda Smith, 



265 



Monday. 5th. Praise the Lord, Oh, my soul. 

" The peace of Christ keeps fresh my heart, 
A fountain ever springing: 
All things are mine since I am His. 
How can I keep from singing?" 

To-day we have a large field meeting, as they call it in 
England, a kind of picnic. I stood in a cart in this great big 
field, in the midst of five or six hundred people, and tried to talk 
to them, and sing. It was a difficult job and all new to me, but I 
did the best I could. 



CHAPTER XXI. 



VISIT TO SCOTLAND, LONDON, AND OTHER PLACES — CONVERSA- 
TION WITH A CURATE — GREAT MEETING AT PERTH — HOW 
I CAME TO GO TO INDIA. 

I think it was in September, 1878. I had met Miss Amars, of 
Galishields, Scotland, at the Keswick Conference. She was a high- 
born lady, and a typical Scotchwoman; and a more thoroughly 
consecrated, self-sacrificing lady, I think, I never met. Her 
mother, too, was an earnest Christian, and a staunch Scotch 
church woman. Miss Amars had a large mothers' meeting, and 
did all she could in every way to help the poor. And being a lady 
of wide influence, and using it for God, she did much good. 

She was generally consulted about an evangelist, if one was to 
come to the town; she gave her influence and threw herself right 
into helping in every way; by visiting, and inviting people. 
There was a large hall where Evangelistic services were held 
every Sunday and through the week. So after Miss Amars had 
gone home from the Keswick Conference, where she had got a 
fresh anointing of the Spirit, she went to work at once, and pre- 
pared the way for my coming. 

This was wonderful; for the Scotch Presbyterians are so con- 
servative; and for a woman to talk before a mixed congregation 
of men and women was not to be thought of in Scotland. What- 
ever they did in England, or in the United States, they in Scot- 
land could not venture that far. 

The brother who had charge of the Evangelistic meetings in 
the hall, was more liberal than most of the brethren; and then 
knowing Miss Amars, as he did, he could not well refuse her when 
she told him of me. He consented to let me speak in his hall. I 
went at the time appointed. They had arranged entertainment 
for me at a very pleasant home, near by the hall, as they lived 
quite a little ways off, themselves. 

(266) 



Amanda Smith. 



267 



Of course. I was quite a curiosity, to start with. The hall 
was crowded. It would hold about three hundred, or four hun- 
dred. The first two meetings. I saw they were a little afraid that 
I didn't know what I was going to do. But I was judicious and 
careful, and the Lord helped me wonderfully. By the time I held 
the third meeting one could not have told from their manner, and 
the hearty Scotch co-operation and sympathy with which they 
stood by me, but what they had been accustomed, not only to 
women preaching, but to black women, all their days. 

Every night there were crowds. Many were turned away; 
they could not get in. The Lord gave me great liberty in speak- 
ing for Him, and many during the meeting professed to have 
found peace in believing. The first three nights I talked more 
directly to believers: I saw they were full of the knowledge of the 
truth, which is a marked characteristic of the Scotch people. 
They know their Bibles; but they need to know the Holy Ghost 
to quicken the Word into life and power. 

At the close of the meeting one evening, a good, old brother 
said to me. softly, in his beautiful Scotch accent: "Sister Smith, 
I think you had better speak more to sinners." 

"Yes," I said, "but you know there are many sinners in 
Zion, and I want them to wake up." 

I often find when the truth hits that some one is very anxious 
you should go for the poor sinners. It is generally a sign that they 
want to be let alone. But when the Lord leads it is all right. 

One morning a lady called to have a talk with me about the 
great salvation. She knew her Bible well, and was a staunch 
member of the church, and had been for years: but she had no 
assurance that she ever was converted. As she went on and told 
me her state, with tears. I asked the Holy Spirit to help me: and 
as I talked with her the Lord sent light into her heart: and there 
in Mrs. Amars' parlor the Holy Spirit witnessed to her heart that 
she was born of God. We knelt together, and for the first time in 
her life she opened her lips to pray and thank God for His great 
mercy, and testify to the family before she left that she had the 
assurance of her salvation. Praise the Lord! This was a wonder- 
ful victory. 

My last meeting was held in one of the chapels. "We had a 
large crowd, and though it was a week day morning, about nine 
o'clock, the chapel was almost crowded. Oh, what a blessed time 
we had! 



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If I could have stayed longer, there were other places that 
were open to me. This was an entering wedge. There had never 
been such a thing known as a woman talking to a mixed congre- 
gation, and that in the hall was remarkable; but when a chapel 
opened its doors, that was a departure. These were some of the 
Lord's doings in beautiful Scotland. 

While I was there, as the winter was coming on, and was my 
first winter in England, I needed a cloak, and I had been thinking 
about it. I had to send money home to my daughter, and I 
thought I could not see how I was going to spare the money to get 
me a cloak. So I prayed, and asked the Lord to open a way that 
I might get a jacket, or something comfortable, for the winter. A 
fur-lined cloak was what I would have liked to have; but they 
were four and five and six guineas, and I knew I could not afford 
to pay that. No one knew that these thoughts were in my mind 
but the Lord. Miss Amars, and Miss Knowles, her friend from 
England, proposed taking me to Edinburgh for a day. As the 
meetings were only held at night, I could go about anywhere in 
the day. Edinburgh was about an hour and a half's ride from 
Galishields. I was very glad to go. 

It was a beautiful morning. We left about eight o'clock. I 
had read about John Knox, and his persecution by Mary Queen of 
Scots, and I thought I would like to see the house where he had 
lived, for I had heard it was still standing. 

The first thing after we got to Edinburgh these ladies said to 
me, "We want to do a little shopping before we go around sight- 
seeing. " They asked if I would like to go into the shop. I said, 
"Oh, yes." 

They had planned to get me a cloak, but I did not know it. 
So they took me into one of the large shops, and into the cloak 
department, and the first thing I knew they began to fit cloaks on 
me. I held my breath; for I thought it could not be that I was 
going to get a fur cloak. But Miss Knowles told me that she 
wanted to give me a fur cloak. And so they got me a very nice 
cloak costing six guineas. My! I walked out of there swell! 

Then the next thing was to see John Knox's house; to get a 
view of this old home, we walked along High street, and into the 
famous Canongate. This is the best way. There are tall, wierd, 
old houses on either hand, and among them the narrow home of 
John Knox; a strange looking building, adjoining a church; there 



Amanda Smith. 



269 



were steps going up from the outside, rickety looking, wooden 
steps. There was a sign hanging out, with the picture of John 
Knox in the attitude of prayer. I stood and looked at it, and 
thought, "Can it be possible that after all these years God has 
permitted one like me to be on this very ground where that man 
walked, and to stand and look at his house? " And I thought of 
what God had done through that mighty man of faith and prayer, 
and that He had favored me with such a privilege. 

Then we visited St. Giles and the old abbey, Holyrood Palace, 
and the castle. The palace is open to visitors, and contains many 
objects of interest. Among these are the apartments of the ill- 
fated Queen Mary. In going through these apartments and having 
different parts explained, I was greatly interested ; they were old 
in style to what they would be now, yet the remains of grandeur 
and splendor were there. The bed that the Queen slept in, with 
its lace and curtains, was s*aid to be just the same. 

From there we went to the museum. Among the things of 
interest we saw there was the frame of the pulpit in which John 
Knox preached. That was the first time I had ever seen stocks. 
I had read of Paul being in stocks in prison, but I never knew 
what it meant till I saw them in Edinburgh. Another thing we 
saw there was a stool, which was connected with an incident both 
historical and amusing. When the liturgy of Archbishop Laud 
was introduced into Scotland, the south end of the transept, which 
was used as a kirk, was the scene of this incident. The Bishop of 
Edinburgh held services there after the form prescribed by Laud. 
He had just asked the Dean to read the collect for the day, when 
a woman named Jennie Geddes attempted to stop him by hurling 
at his head the stool on which she was sitting. He dodged it, but 
the blow was fatal to the effort to force Episcopacy upon reformed 
Scotland. 

The chief sight of Edinburgh is the castle. It stands on the 
summit of a lofty and abrupt hill, and commands the city and sur- 
rounding country. How many things I learned from what they 
told me about all these. The Scotch ladies, as well as the English, 
are so well versed in the history of their country that they can 
with ease detail almost any event of any time. I never had met 
anybody that could do this so satisfactorily as they did for me. If 
my memory could only have retained what they told me, I would 
have had quite a little store of history laid up. All the bits of 



270 



Autobiography of 



history I had read about were explained to me over and over again. 
How beautiful it all was, and what a pleasant time. 

It was all very interesting to me as the ladies described and 
explained it as we went along. They were familiar with the 
names, and I was quite familiar with them from hearing so much 
while there, and I thought I would never forget them. But after 
having the African fever so much I find my memory is quite 
weak, and I am so sorry I have forgotten the names of so many 
places and things. 

By this time it was noon, and Miss Knowles proposed that we 
go to the Y. M. C. A. She had a special desire to go there and 
once more stand on the spot where she first stood up, at the meet- 
ings Mr. Moody was holding, and decided for Christ. 

She was a beautiful young lady, in high position, with all the 
worldly pleasure and enjoyment at her hand, and was much 
admired as a society lady, and when Mr* Moody was holding meet- 
ings at Edinburgh she thought she would go and hear him. She 
was on a visit at that time in Scotland. Her home was in South- 
port, England. And as Mr. Moody went on with his address the 
Spirit of the Lord took hold of her and she yielded her heart fully 
to God, and from that hour gave up all that seemed to be so dear, 
as the world would call it. But she never had a regret. She 
turned right away from it without a lingering look behind. How 
beautiful! She used to come to my room and ask me to pray for 
her. How often we have knelt down and prayed together! 

"When we are willing with all things to part, 
He gives us our bounty, His love in our heart." 

Praise Him, praise Him, Jesus our wonderful Redeemer. 

So we went into the hall. They were not having a meeting 
that day. Miss Knowles took me to the spot and showed me where 
she sat and where she stood, the very spot. Her face beamed with 
light and joy as she seemed to live it all over again. And how she 
thanked and praised the Lord for giving her the courage to take 
the step that day. 

Then we called on some friends and had an elegant lunch, and 
after this beautiful day of sight-seeing we returned again to Gali- 
shields, and after a little rest we were off again to the meeting. I 
was very tired, but the Lord gave us great blessing that night in 
the meeting. 



Amanda Smith. 



271 



Sunday, Nov. 8th, 1878. My first Sunday in London. T go to 
Wesley Chapel, and, Oh, to see one pray out of a book in the Meth- 
odist Church was so different from what I had ever expected. I 
shall never forget the text and the sermon. Everything seemed so 
formal and dead in comparison with what I had been accustomed 
to in our Methodist Churches in America. Even the seating of 
the people seemed formal; or, in other words, to me, it seemed 
dead. What confirmed it more was, when the minister took his 
text from Rev. 14: 13, "Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord, 
yea, even so saith the Spirit, for they rest from their labors, and 
their works do follow them; " and I said to myself, " I guess there 
is a funeral sermon to be preached." And I thought he would 
make some reference to the person who had died, though I saw no 
sign of any who might be taken to be the parties who had lost rel- 
atives, save here and there in the congregation was some one 
dressed in black. But he went on, and I concluded when he was 
through that there was nothing to do but to bury them, for they 
were all dead, and the funeral sermon was preached. 

Wednesday, Dec. 11th, 1878. Prof. Harris, of Cambridge, 
called to-day. Had a nice season of prayer together. Invites me 
to Cambridge. 

Tuesday, 24th. I get a number of letters written to-day. 
About six o'clock a knock comes at my door. A servant comes 
and says the expressman has brought a hamper for me. 

"No," I said, "it cannot be for me. Nobody would send me 
a hamper. Nobody knows me here. It is a mistake." 

"Yes, it is for you, Amanda Smith." 

" No/' I said, " it cannot be. Go down and tell the man it is 
a mistake. I'm not expecting anything." 

So off she went. By and by she came back, laughing. She 
says, "The man says you must come and sign the book. It is for 
you. He was to leave it here." 

Well, I went downstairs/and, lo! and behold, there it was. It 
was the first time I had ever had a Christmas hamper sent me. 
And it was packed full of the nicest Christmas things I ever had. 
I was astonished beyond expression. We went to work to take out 
the things. There was a beautiful cake, fine French candy, 
almonds, nuts, raisins, everything elegant; and down at the side I 
saw a beautiful album, and when I took it out I saw the secret, 
for there was Miss Morris' photo and a letter, with the compli- 



272 



Autobiography of 



ments of the season. Then T knew she had sent it. So character- 
istic of her to think of the needs of any one, and then to think of 
me, a stranger, in a strange land. I cannot tell how I felt. I have 
no language to describe my deep appreciation and thanksgiving. 
She met me first at Keswick, and I learned to love her then; and 
after I had been at her home, and shared her hospitality and the 
friendship of her sister, Miss Anna, and Mrs. Richard Morris, I 
shall never forget her. May God ever bless her memory. 

One time in London a young curate came to me to have a talk. 
He wanted to convince me in regard to the transubstantiation. 
He said he was rather a good High Churchman. He said the dis- 
senters were wrong. He believed some of them were good, and it 
was such a pity they should be so wrong in their views or knowl- 
edge in regard to the Holy Communion. 

" Now," said he, "you take the wine and bread figuratively, 
but don't you know that you are to take it as the real literal body 
of Jesus and blood of Jesus? But your faith must so take it that 
it really is changed, while in the act of being taken into the real 
body of the Lord Jesus, and into the real blood." 

Well, I could not understand it. He explained and explained, 
and explained! I told him I could not see it that way. Then he 
went on in a very elaborate manner to bring illustrations and 
evidences to show and prove. I listened. He talked to me two 
hours. 

I did not know what else to say, or at least I felt I did not 
want to say anything, for surely I was tired and felt the whole 
thing sounded to me like bosh; but still I was patient, and prayed 
the Lord to give me grace to hold still. Finally I said to him, 
after a great explanation, "Oh, that is the way you understand it." 

Then he drew up his chair, thinking he had convinced me 
thoroughly, to make his final conclusion. 

" Well," I said to him, " there is only one thing about it that 
is hard for me to do." 

"Now, what is that, Mrs. Smith?" with such an air of com- 
placency, as though he could soon clear that away. 

"Why, it has always been such a hard thing for me to believe 
what I know is not true." 

My! he was thunderstruck! 

"Well," he said, "Mrs. Smith, I feel so sorry to think that a 
good woman like you should be deceived; but I will come and 



Amanda Smith. 



273 



have a talk with you again: I like to talk with you. Sometimes 
when I talk to persons they seem to get so tired and vexed; but 
you are so patient and quiet."' 

I thanked him very kindly, and he left. Then I got down 
on my knees and said. ,k Oh. Lord. Lord, don't ever let that man 
come back any more, for I don't want to talk any more: I am 
tired. Amen." 

" Well," I thought, " if you knew how disgusted I felt inside, 
you would think I got vexed, anyhow." 

So the good curate never came back again and I was free. 

I met with many strange things in different places in England, 
strange views of all sorts. I don't know whether it is worse there 
than here, but the isms and cisms and fanatics — dear me, where 
are they not? They are like the flies and frogs of Egypt, all over; 
but they that trust in the Lord shall be as Mount Zion, which 
shall never be moved. 

August 9th. 1ST9, I leave Keswick for Darlington with Miss 
Fothergil. Miss Fothergil has a very large and interesting Bible 
class of young men. She is a great worker and organizer of 
Christian work. So at nine o'clock in the morning we went to 
this Bible class. I suppose there were two hundred men. Of 
course there were other workers engaged as helpers. It was a 
beautiful sight to see these men — working men — all engaged in 
studying the Word of God for an hour on Sunday morning. 

At eleven o'clock we attended at the Friends' meeting house; 
no singing, or praying, or preaching, unless the Spirit moves. 
But I felt quite comfortable to sit and be quiet. 

Monday, August 11th. I leave Darlington to-day for Broad- 
lands Conference, Lord Mount Temple's. As I had been disap- 
pointed in not getting to go the year before, Lord Mount Temple 
was very kind, and when I was holding meetings at Charington 
Hall, at Stepney, London, he, with a number of his friends, came 
one night to the meeting, and he invited me personally to come to 
the conference next year. It*did seem as though I was to be de- 
feated this time, as I had been before, in going. But my dear 
friend, Mr. Edward Clifford, felt so sure that the Lord wanted I 
should go there, that he kept writing and urging me to come; 
and I was well persuaded that he w^as not wrong. 

I was royally entertained at Lord Mount Temple's home. 
And God gave me favor among the people, and great blessing in 



274 



Autobiography op 



song and testimony. Though everything was done differently 
in regard to the meeting from what I had been accustomed to in 
America, yet the Lord seemed to get me through. 

I remember the first day of the meeting. It was a beautiful 
day, and there were great numbers of people; and as we came in 
from the beautiful orangery, the hall where the meeting was 
held, and went into the house to dinner, as I stood in the great, 
spacious hall, and the ladies and gentlemen were waiting to go to 
dinner, Lady Mount Temple came down stairs and came up to me 
and put her arms around my neck and kissed me before all the 
people. 

I was a little embarrassed, though I felt it was real. But no 
one knew whether I blushed or not, or whether I was really em- 
barrassed; so far as my color was concerned, they could not 
perceive it. One good thing — there is no chameleon about me! 

Then when we were ready to go to dinner Lord Mount Temple 
came up to me and said, "Mrs. Smith, take my arm." And we 
led the way to the dining room. 

My! I thought. It was the first time in all my life that I was 
ever escorted by a gentleman to dinner in such style. 

Dinner was something that I had always managed to get to 
without any help! But then, this was the order of the day. I 
soon found that this was the custom in England, for many times 
afterward I had that honor, and I have also had the same honor 
conferred upon me in America. 

How well I remember the first time. When Dr. Newman, 
who is now Bishop Newman, was pastor of the Metropolitan 
Church in Washington, and Brother Inskip held that great tent 
meeting, I was at that meeting. Dr. Newman invited Brother 
Inskip to hold their closing service at his church. So they did. 
There was a meeting arranged for nine o'clock in the morning, in 
the lecture room, for ladies; and at noon the ministers were in- 
vited to a meeting upstairs in the audience room, and at night 
Brother Inskip preached. Then they left the next morning. 

I was invited next day by Mrs Newman to dine with them. 
I went at the hour appointed. Mrs. Newman was very kind, and 
after I went upstairs and laid off my things, we went down to 
dinner. Brother McDonald and some of the other brethren were 
also invited. When we got down into the parlor Dr. Newman 
came and said, "Take my arm, Mrs. Smith;" and we led the 
way; and he gave me the seat of honor at his right. 



Amanda Smith. 



275 



How well I remember the pleasant time we had, and the ex- 
cellent dinner. What a gentle, sweet spirit seemed to pervade 
their home at that time. After the dinner was through, we 
remained at the table, talking. Dr. Xewman said to me, " Now, 
Amanda, here is our William:'' (referring to the colored butler); 
"we are very interested for our William: he is not converted, and 
I want you to talk to him. I buried his sister about a week ago. 
She was a good Christian. And William ought to be converted." 

Then I turned to William and began to talk. We talked 
awhile, ind William stood and looked very serious; and then Dr. 
Newman suggested that I sing, and Brother McDonald suggested 
what he thought would be a good thing, and we joined and sang. 

Just in the midst of our singing the bell rang, and William 
had to answer it. When he came in he spoke to Mrs. Xewman 
and told her who it was. and Mrs. Xewman went out into the 
parlor, and in a little while she came back bringing a lady with 
her, whom she introduced as her friend, Mrs. C. I had met Mrs. 
C. the day before. Mrs. Xewman had introduced me to her, and 
told me how she was seeking the Lord. After she was seated, 
Dr. Xewman said, " Xow. Amanda, I think you had better sing 
us another piece." So something else was suggested, and we 
joined and sang. 

While we were singing, I .noticed that Mrs. C. could hardly 
control her emotions. I knew the Spirit of the Lord had taken 
hold of her heart. Then Dr. Xewman said, " Xow we will have a 
season of prayer." 

So right there in the dining room we just knelt and prayed 
around; each one prayed. And when it came my turn it seemed 
to me I never was so helped in prayer. I prayed especially for this 
lady. I felt that God would bless her. Sure enough, when we 
rose from our knees, her burden was all gone and she was happy. 
She wrote me a beautiful letter while I was in Africa, and told me 
the blessing she received that day had remained with her; and, 
though she had passed through a great deal of trouble, yet she had 
never lost the peace and blessing that came to her that day. 

I thought at that time how wonderful it was for Mrs. Xewman 
to bring that lady into her dining room when I was there. I know 
some ladies who would have been ashamed to let it be known that 
I was in their dining room. 

Then I went down stairs and had a little visit with the old 



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Autobiography of 



servant. She, too, bore testimony to Mrs. Newman's kindness to 
them. She said to me, "I used to live with Mrs Newman's mother. 

Miss , (calling her by her maiden name) was always kind. She 

has not changed a bit. Sometimes when they have little evening 
parties, and have ice cream, after the people are all gone, Mrs. 
Newman will come downstairs and ask if there was any cream left 
for William and me; and if there was not, she will send out if it was 
ten o'clock at night, so we may have our part. This treatment to 
you is not put on. I know them." Of course, this was all before 
Dr. Newman was Bishop. 

Thursday, August 14th. I leave Broadlands for Salisbury. 
Rev. Mr. Thwaites invites me to come to Salisbury and hold some 
meetings. I was entertained at Fisherton Rectory. 

Monday, 18th. I leave for Eastbourne, Miss Mason's house of 
rest. Here I meet many of the workers who are there for a week's 
rest, or more. How good of the Lord to give me this privilege, 
and these few days of quiet and rest. 

Friday, 29th. Leave Eastbourne. Spend the evening with 
Miss Drake, at Dr. Bordman's, Rochester Square, London. She is 
on her way back to India. 

Sunday, 31st. Mr. Richard Morris arranges a meeting at the 
Y. M. C. A. The Lord gave me great liberty in speaking, and we 
had a good time. 

September 1st, 1879. I leave Doncaster for the great Perth, 
Scotland, Conference. These meetings are held annually, and are 
very marked for blessing. I was asked to come a week before the 
Conference convened, and hold some preparatory meetings, so as 
to add to the interest of blessing at the Conference. Mrs. Gordon, 
of Park Hill, Aberdeen, and Mrs. Douglas were among the promi- 
nent ladies in the church, and they had arranged for my enter- 
tainment. I was met at the station by three Christian workers. 
When I stepped out of the train they came right up to me, and 
were so cordial and kind, I felt quite at home with them. They 
never allow you to carry anything; they just take your hand-bag, 
and go at once and see after your baggage, so that everything is 
made so easy for you. For this, I always praise the Lord. 

I noticed they had bundles of hand bills, and were giving 
them to everybody. So I said, " You are trying to advertise well." 

"Oh, yes," they said: " The people are very hard to get out 
to a Gospel meeting." 



Amanda Smith. 



277 



%i Is that so?" I said, 44 1 thought the Scotch people turned out 
well." 

44 The fact is, Mrs. Smith, we people have had the Gospel so 
much that we have become Gospel hardened, I think. When 
an evangelist does come, he always has to work a week before the 
people get interested and come out in any numbers. So you must 
not be discouraged, Mrs. Smith. .Mr. Scrogey, from Ireland, was 
here some time ago, and he always gets more out than anyone else, 
and yet it was a week before there was any marked interest in the 
meetings. The people were so tardy about coming out." 

44 Indeed." 

"We have a small hall, that will hold about a hundred, and 
we thought we would commence there first; then, if the meetings 
increased, we have a larger hall close by; it holds about three 
hundred and fifty." 

' 4 Oh, my, ' ' I said, 4 4 1 thought the Scotch people were people of 
great faith; but you only have got faith for two hundred people. 
You must do better than that." 

They laughed and said, 44 But, Mrs. Smith, you don't know 
the people." 

44 Xo," I said, 4 4 but I know the Lord, and He says, 4 ask 
largely. ' ' ' 

44 Well," they said, 4 4 we will see to-night. T> 

44 They don't know," I thought, 44 that I am God's bulletin 
board, and to be even a sign post for God has its reward. How- 
ever, I will not tell them. We will see." 

So, as we walked on, they said, seemingly to prepare me, and 
cheer me. 44 Of course, Mrs. Smith, you will not feel embar- 
rassed, for there will only be women allowed in the meeting." 

44 Why?" 

44 Well, we supposed you were not accustomed to speaking 
before men; so there will be no men allowed in." 

44 Oh," I said, 44 1 don't mind speaking before men at all. At 
some of our camp meetings in America I have talked to two and 
three thousand — men and women, girls and boys, young and old." 

They were astonished out of measure. So nothing further was 
said on the subject. 

W^hen evening came we went to the hall. It was packed and 
crowded; and all outside the door and along the street, so that I 
never got in at all. They took me to a house near by to wait till 



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Autobiography of 



they lighted up the large hall, which took about twenty minutes, 
till all was settled. Then I went in. 

As I passed down the aisle I saw three men had slipped in, 
and they leaned forward so as not to let me see them; and I never 
let on. Poor fellows; they were waiting every minute to be told 
to go out, and they were quite ready; they would have moved out 
at a word. 

I went on, gave out my hymn, and opened the meeting; after 
prayer, I began my address. I never referred to the men, or said 
a word about what I had been accustomed to in America. As I 
talked on, the men began to raise themselves up and sit erect. 
My! I shall never forget their faces. They seemed to look glad. 
The Lord helped me to speak. 

The next night six men came in. I went right on, and said 
nothing to them whatever. The third day two ladies called to see 
me. They were much interested in the meeting, and were very 
wealthy, and so carried on the principal part of the finances of the 
mission. They were very kind iudeed to me. They were maiden 
ladies, sisters. So they came in their carriage to protect me, and 
see that I was not intruded upon by the men coming in. When 
we got to the hall there were seven or eight men. I saw these ladies 
looked very sharp and surprised. I went on and opened the meet- 
ing with a lively hymn; and the Scotch can sing, depend upon it. 
Then I asked some one to lead in prayer; and one of the lady 
workers did so, but it was very faint. Poor thing, I knew it was 
a struggle; fortunately it was not lengthy. So we rose, and I gave 
out the next hymn. 

While they sang I noticed a great deal of quiet whispering and 
uneasiness; these good ladies were very nervous; I was greatly 
amused. Just before I began my address, one of them said to me, 
"Now, Mrs. Smith, there are those men; and they know quite 
well this is a meeting for women only; and they know they should 
not be in here. If you would like, I will speak to them, and have 
them go out." 

"Oh, no/' I said, "I don't mind; I think they came with their 
wives; I saw one man bring the baby and give it to the mother; 
and if they behave themselves it's all right; I want to talk to the 
women about their souls, and their salvation; and that is what the 
men need as well." 

"Then it don't embarrass you to have the men present? " 



Amanda Smith. 



279 



"Not in the least," I said, And she sat clown, comfortably 
surprised; and I had no further trouble about the men coming to 
meeting with the women. They did seem glad. They would 
shake hands with me, and say, " Lord bless you," and they smiled, 
and I suppose they thought I had given them the best chance they 
had ever had to get into a mixed meeting. 

The Sunday night of the great Conference, in the large town 
hall, holding eleven hundred or twelve hundred people, Lady 
Hope, wife of Sir James Hope, an excellent Christian lady, known 
all over England and Scotland for her earnest Christian work 
among the navvies and working men, for the first time in her life, 
after I had sung " Whosoever," addressed a large audience of men 
and women. 

They listened with profoundest interest to the Gospel address. 
It was a new epoch in Scotch history, for a woman to speak before 
a company of that kind, on such an occasion. I held meetings 
for a week after the Conference had closed; and in that same hall 
on the following Sunda}^ night, a hundred stood up for prayers, 
mostly men, with tears running down their faces, and trembling 
as they stood. They didn't pop up and down in a minute, as we 
often see it here, but they rose and stood. Oh, what a night that 
was! The workers, though there were a great number, seemed to 
be astounded, and didn't know what to do. The Lord of Hosts 
was with us and helped us. 

I remember a dear old woman, with a white cap on, and her 
Bible open in her lap I went to speak to her. She was weeping 
bitterly. She knew her Bible almost by heart; there was not a 
promise I could mention but she knew it. She said, " Yes, Mrs. 
Smith, I know that, and I have read it over and over; but I 
have never had the assurance of my salvation, and I don't know 
that I am saved. I want to know it." 

"Well," I said, " God wants you to know it; and you do know 
His Word; but it is the Spirit that quickeneth; so ask the Lord to 
give you His Spirit, and quicken the Word in your heart." 

"Yes," she said, "I think it may be that." 

"Have you ever praised the Lord for His precious Word? " 

"Well," she said, "I try to be thankful, but then I don't 
know as I ever have really praised Him." 

"Well," I said, "praise Him for what He has done, and trust 
Him to give you His Spirit of assurance." 



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And she did right away, and in a little while was as happy 
as a bride. My! how beautiful! Oh, how the blessed Spirit came 
to her heart! filled her with peace and joy. Praise the Lord for 
His mercy. 

Then the Rev. Mr. Blank asked me to take a week's service in 
his church. He had an assistant pastor, and he himself had to 
be away. 

This was a very new thing; to be in a Scotch kirk; a woman, 
and a black woman; who eveT heard of such a thing? But the 
assistant pastor was a very earnest Christian worker, and took 
right hold, and the Lord was with us. Every night the house was 
crowded; they had galleries all around, and they were filled. They 
used the Gospel Hymns to sing in, and then they had their own 
Book of Psalms. How many dear old people, men and women. 
How they cheered me! They all joined in these hymns and sang 
heartily. 

The third night of the meeting, one old gentleman came up to 
me, and whispered softly, calling me aside; and in his beautiful 
broad Scotch, he said, " Mrs. Smith, the old people would be much 
better pleased if you would open the meeting and close with a 
Psalm. We are used to singing the Psalms. The young people 
like the Gospel Hymns; but just for the older people, I will just 
put that in your ear." 

Then giving me a little pinch on the arm, he turned away. I 
sa w it in a moment. I said nothing, but the next evening I opened 
the service by giving out a Psalm. I never did such a thing 
before, and never had heard of it, and hardly knew which to give 
out; but they knew them all, so I ventured. I think it was the 
one hundred and third Psalm. However, it seemed to be just the 
right one; and the faces of those old people lighted up; they 
thought I was the nicest kind of a woman! And I thought I had 
heard singing before, but when I struck that Psalm it was the 
most beautiful thing I ever heard. So I got converted over right 
then and there to Psalm singing; though I had not backslid over 
any of the old Hymns that I had learned in days of yore. And if I 
lived in Scotland I should learn how to sing the Psalms. 

We went on with that meeting for a week. The Lord gave 
us great blessing. Many souls were strengthened and blessed, 
while some for the first time decided for Christ. 

September 20, 1879. Leave Perth for Aberdeen. Sunday 



Amaxda Smith. 



281 



afternoon, Park Hill Chapel, Mr. Gordon's. Mr. Gordon had built 
a large chapel in the town, and employed an evangelist by the 
name of Mr. Anderson; a grand, good man. He often had evan- 
gelists come and help M*°. Anderson with the meetings. So this 
was a new field for a woman to work in, in a mixed congregation, 
as was also the case in Perth. 

Then the Spirit of the Plymouth brethren was so very strong 
in every direction. Of course, Father Anderson himself was on 
the straight line. 

I remember one afternoon it was with great difficulty that I 
got into the church; they had afternoon meetings, and the crowds 
were simply enormous. I was to give a Bible reading that after- 
noon. The Lord had given us great blessings in the evening 
meetings. A number of souls professed to have found peace in 
believing. We had glorious times. 

The work seemed to be signally blessed of God. But the good 
Plymouth brethren did not see it at all. because I was a woman; 
not that I was a black woman, bat a woman. Paul had said; 
44 Let your women keep silence in the churches," and it was a 
great violation of Paul's teachings. They would try, in a nice 
way, to get me into an argument; but I always avoided anything 
of the kind; for it is like bodily exercise which profiteth little. 

One afternoon, as I was in the crowd trying to press my way 
through, a number of these brethren were at the door waiting for 
me, and they handed me a great epistle, with passages of Scrip- 
ture quoted in most every other line. My! they are tremendous 
on quoting Scripture! I took the letters, and, to their surprise, 
instead of reading them before I began to talk, I put them in my 
pocket and went on. What they meant was, that I was to read 
the letters, and then they had their questions all propounded. But 
I just went on. My! how the Lord helped that afternoon, and we 
had a good meeting. So I think they gave me up in disgust, for I 
heard no more of them after that. 

And here let me tell how it all came about that I got to go 
overland, and so to see Paris and the continent. 

It was through my dear friend, Miss Morris, and that grand, 
good man, Lord Mount Temple, and my true friend, Mr. E. 
Clifford, with whom I had labored at the Broadlands Conference, 
and in London, at Mr. Charrington's. Victoria Hall. He had 
been on a tour through Scotland, and hearing of my intention to 



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leave England for India, on his way home he came through 
Galishields and stopped off to see me. I shall never forget his 
untiring kindness. But he said he was afraid I was making a 
mistake in leaving England, for the Lord had blessed me so greatly 
there; everywhere I went He had given me blessing, which he 
thought ought to serve as a clear indication that my work was 
not yet done in England. 

I admitted it all, for it was true; but down deep in my heart 
God had put a clear conviction; and then in answer to prayer had 
made outward circumstances very plain, and I knew well that it 
was He that was leading, though I could not explain. 

So when he saw that I was settled in my decision, and when I 
told him that Miss Drake, the lady with whom I was going, was 
going overland, he said, "By all means, go overland; and you 
must see all of Paris, and Rome, and the continent that you can." 

When he rose to go he gave me a five pound note and said, 
"Now, I give you this to spend going about, so as to see all you 
can. You may never have another chance." 

That was true. I never expect to have another such oppor- 
tunity. I thanked him kindly, but thought to myself, "I don't 
mean to spend twenty-five dollars sight-seeing." 

We went through on a more economical scale. But I saw 
what I called many wonderful things, through the kindness of 
this gentleman and other friends, for I had asked the Lord 
definitely to open a way for me, that I might get to see Paris and 
Rome, that I had heard so much about. 

My going to India came about in this way: I was at East- 
bourne, England. Dear Miss Mason has a very pretty home at 
Eastbourne, by the sea, where tired Christian workers may go for 
a little change and rest, just as she has in London. To this she 
invited me for a little rest, as I was weary and needed the change. 
The charge was very moderate, and then the spiritual help was 
what one needs so much. Praise the Lord for this oasis in the 
desert. Then to think that I should be thus highly favored. 
But it is the Lord's doings, and it is marvelous in our eyes. 

While at Eastbourne I had a letter from my friend, Mrs. Dr. 
Bordman, in London. She said, "Who do you think is in London, 
and at my house? Lucy Drake. She is on her way back to India. 
She was delighted to hear from you, and wants you to call and see 
her on your way to Done aster, as you have to pass through 
London." 



Amanda Smith. 



283 



I had known Miss Drake well years before; and I was so glad 
to see her again. I called, and we had a good old-fashioned chat, 
and a season of prayer. She said she had a conviction that the 
Lord wanted me to go to India. I told her I didn't see it in that 
light at all. She told me of all her plans, and told me to pray 
earnestly for light on my own path; "For," she said, " I'm quite 
sure the Lord wants you to go." 

" I have so much work to do here in England," I said, " and 
calls are coming in constantly from all directions, so that I could 
not go." 

" If the Lord wants you He will make it clear." 
"All right." 

So we parted. I went on to Perth, Scotland. A few days after, 
I had a letter from Miss Drake, saying, " The Lord has made it 
clear to me for you to go to India, and I have told some friends, 
and they have handed me some money for you for your expenses. " 

"Well," I said, as I read the letter, "Miss Drake needn't do 
that, for I am not going to India at all." 

I had never prayed a bit about it, although she had told me 
to do so. A few days later a letter came, saying, " It is wonderful 
how the Lord is answering prayer about your going to India. Dr. 
Mahan has just come in and handed me twenty pounds from Lord 
Mount Temple toward your expenses." 

And I said, as I stood by the mantel shelf, reading the letter, 
" I know the reason Miss Drake thinks the Lord wants me to go 
with her to India; she is alone, and she doesn't like to travel alone, 
and it is easy to see the Lord in it; and I don't care, I have work 
enough to do now, without going off to India; and I'm not going." 

Just then a voice seemed to say to me, clear and distinct, " You 
have been saying you would not go to India all the time, and you 
have never asked the Lord what His will is." 

"That is true," I said, " Oh, Lord, forgive me." 

There was no one in the dining room, and just in the corner 
by the mantel, stood an old-fashioned Scotch arm chair; I turned 
and knelt down by it, and burying my face in the cushion, and 
weeping, I prayed the Lord to forgive me for my impertinence, and 
if He wanted me to go to India, to make it very clear and plain to 
me, and I would obey Him, and leave all and go. Only I wanted 
to be sure that it was Himself speaking. 

I cannot tell how, but as I waited before Him, He made it as 



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Autobiography of 



plain as day to me that T was to go. I praised Him, and rose from 
my knees, without the least shadow of a doubt in my mind. 

I had an engagement at Aberdeen, which I saw I would have 
time to fill before leaving. My other engagements I canceled, and 
explained how the Lord had changed me about. I wrote Miss 
Drake and told her I would go, and that T wanted to go overland. 
Then she wrote to say that she had enough means if I went all the 
way by sea. I could go to Liverpool and take the steamer and 
meet her at Suez. I wrote and told her I believed the Lord would 
let me go overland, and so see Paris and Rome. My! how the let- 
ters flew! 

I went on to Aberdeen, and took up my week's services. Then 
I had a letter from Mrs. Bordman advising me to go by sea from 
Liverpool, and so save a hundred dollars; but I must let Miss 
Drake know by return mail whether I would go overland or by 
steamer from Liverpool, as she must telegraph and secure the 
staterooms. After I had read this letter, and thought it all over, 
I arose and got all the little money I had, and counted it out; it 
was fifteen or sixteen pounds. 

I wanted to send home to my daughter, who was in school, 
three months' board, and that would take it nearly all; and now I 
must give an answer by return mail. So I took Mrs. Bordman's 
letter, and the money, and spread them on the bed, and got down 
on my knees, and there seemed to come over me a spirit of desper- 
ation and faith as I told the Lord. I said, " Lord, Thou knowest 
my heart; how I have longed to see these great cities and the con- 
tinent. And now, though it will cost more to go overland than to 
go all the way by sea, yet all the means are Thine, and I am Thy 
child; and if it can please Thee, grant me this desire." 

And as I waited before the Lord, the Spirit whispered these 
words distinctly: " All things whatsoever ye ask in prayer believ- 
ing, ye shall receive." And I said, " Lord, I believe you will give 
me the money to go overland." 

And I arose from my knees, and sat down and wrote by return 
mail and said, " Please tell Miss Drake to secure my stateroom; I 
will go overland with her." 

My heart was as light as a feather. My dear friend, Miss 
Morris, on her way home to Doncaster, stopped in London to see 
Miss Drake, before I got there, and made up all the deficiency, 
and then she wrote and said how sorry she was that I had not told 
her my need. 



Amanda Smith. 



285 



"For," she said, "you know, Amanda, I have always told 
you to let me know when you really needed anything. I went to 
see Miss Drake, and she is very nice, and I like her very much. I 
was very much interested in all she told me of her work in India. 
I asked her to tell me frankly if she needed any help for you in any 
way, and she told me what was lacking on the expenses, and I was 
so glad to give it to her." 

So the Lord in this, verified his promise, "All things what- 
soever ye ask in prayer believing, ye shall receive. ' ' I think I can see 
now that God wanted me in Africa, and He had to send me to India 
to educate me a little before He could tell me to go to Africa. I'm 
sure if He had told me in Scotland He wanted me to go to Africa, 
I should have made a bee-line for the United States. But, oh, how 
good the Lord is. I shall evermore praise Him, and thank Him 
for all the great privilege of seeing what I did on the continent 
and in Egypt. How wonderfully He answered prayer through 
these instrumentalities. First of all, Miss Drake, and then Lord 
Mount Temple, and Miss Morris, and Mr. Clifford, and others. 
How wonderful it all seems. 



CHAPTER XXII. 



IN PARIS — ON THE WAY TO INDIA — FLORENCE — ROME — - NAPLES — 

EGYPT. 

Saturday, September 4th. We go around to see something of 
Paris. My! the wonders; not strange, perhaps, to others, but to 
me; the statuary, and parks, and buildings were lovely to behold. 

Sunday, 5th. A beautiful, bright morning. My heart was 
full of praise as I woke and looked out upon the beauty. But how 
sad I was in a little while as I saw the buildings going up, men 
hauling stones, laundries open, everything just like Saturday. 
Others were going to church. 

' ' Oh," I said, "is this fashionable, wicked Paris, to which 
the eyes of the Christian world are turned for their first fashions 
and imitations? " And as I thought of it I felt sad. At church 
time we attended the Wesleyan Church. It was communion Sun- 
day. The minister preached a grand sermon from the words: 
"Christ gave himself." 

Monday, 6th. We go sight-seeing again. One of the places 
which interested me a great deal was the porcelain works. There 
I saw where this beautiful china is made. And as the man turned 
the different articles that he wished to make, from the finest little 
cup to the largest vase, I thought what complete power the potter 
had over the clay. There was no dictating from the clay. The 
potter had full control. At one time he would take a piece of the 
clay and make one kind of an article; then he would turn the 
same piece of clay into another kind of an article; sometimes a 
beautiful pitcher, then a mug, then a basin, and in all shapes 
whatsoever he willed he made the cla} 7 . And then he showed us 
some with the most exquisite flowering on them that were to be 
put in the furnace at a certain time, and the fire would bring out 
all the fine pretty marks and colors. 

(286) 



Amanda Smith. 



287 



As I stood and heard his explanation, my heart caught fire; 
and I thought how much that is like the blessed Master. Some- 
times what brings out the beautiful character is the furnace. And 
I said, i; Oh, Lord, help me to be in Thy hands as this clay is in 
the potter's hands; and even when the furnace comes, to submit, 
and not dictate." 

"Pains, furnace, heat, within me quiver; 

God's breath upon the flame doth blow; 
And all my heart within me quivers, 

And trembles at the fiery glow. 
Yet T say trust Him as God wills, 
And in His hottest fire hold still." 

In one of the avenues not far from this place (I'm sorry I can't 
remember the name), a very wide avenue, with beautiful trees on 
either side, almost making an arch, there were long rows of gypsy 
wagons, with everything to sell; a kind of fair — " Vanity Fair." 
The minute I saw this it brought to my mind a dream that I had 
had twenty-three years before. Oh, how marvelous! Everything 
was almost jusi as I had dreamed it, twenty-three years before! 

We leave Paris at two o'clock in the afternoon, and travel all 
night. 

Tuesday, September 7th. Reach Turin to-night at eight- 
thirty. 

Wednesday, 8th. Leave this morning for Florence. Reach 
there at nine at night. Spend the next day sight-seeing. As we 
traveled by what is called Cooke's coupon system, which is very 
convenient, and gives you every information of places of interest, 
etc., and as Miss Drake had all that part of the arrangement to 
attend to, I did not even as much as note the names of the hotels 
where we stopped in my diary, only, perhaps, once, though I was 
familiar with all the names and places at the time. 

We had a guide given us. We first visited the great Uffizi 
gallery, with its wonderful collection of works of art, such as I had 
never seen before, and never shall again. Here was the first time 
I ever remember hearing the name of the great painter, Michael 
Angelo. 

There was so much that was beautiful, that I could take in 
but a very little of the whole. I was wonderfully struck with the 
bust and head of Nero when a boy of ten or fourteen. His coun- 



288 



Autobiography op 



tenance was sullen, and I could almost see him as he decided 
against Christians. 

The next place we went to was the National Museum and gal- 
lery of fine arts. Here again was pointed out to us the bust of the 
great sculptor and painter, Michael Angelo, who is held in loving, 
if not sacred remembrance. It was he who furnished the model 
for the great dome of St. Peter's of Rome. All this was new to 
me, and some things I had heard of by the hearing of the ear. 
But could it be that I, Amanda Smith, was really living, and at 
Florence, Italy? Many times while they were talking, and the 
man would be explaining things, I was lost in wonder, love and 
praise at the Lord's dealings in giving me the privilege to enjoy 
so much that I never expected could come to one like me. Surely 
it is His doings, and very marvelous. 

Our next visit was to the Baptistry of St. John's. There were 
those beautiful bronze gates. How magnificent! I can almost 
see them now as I think it all over. Just as we got there a priest 
was about to perform the ceremony of baptism to two lovely 
babies. Two carriages drove up. In the first were the father and 
mother, with the baby, and the priest. In the second was the 
party with the other baby. They were exquisitely dressed. I 
thought I never saw such lovely looking babies in my life. I 
would like to have just taken them up in my arms and kissed 
them. They looked more like angels than children. They didn't 
seem to offer any objections to us looking on. When it was over I 
saw the fathers pay the priest quite a sum in gold. My heart was 
sad for the little things, after all; for I thought they will live and 
die without the true light and knowledge of the glorious Gospel of 
the Son of God. 

Thursday, September 9th. We leave this morning for Rome. 
Arrive about five p. m. How accommodating and courteous they 
are at the hotel. We got on splendidly. Here in this great old 
historic city there is much to admire, and much to be sad for. 
Poverty and wealth seem to rival each other. T think I got some 
little idea what it meant for a country to be priest ridden. Every- 
where you go,, up and down, every few stations on the railroad, 
every train you get off of, or on, priests; all through the streets, 
in every turn you make, you see a priest coming or going; or two 
or three or four; scattered in every direction, priests. I never saw 
so many priests and monks in my life. Old men, with gray hair, 



Amanda Smith. 



289 



who had never done a day's work in their lives; large, well, strong 
looking men. Some of them looked almost like idiots; their brain, 
and muscle, and thought had never been developed. They had 
never worn stockings, or shoes. They wore sandals, and just 
straight gowns of the coarsest material, with a cord, a piece of 
common clothes line, round the waist, and the ends, which were 
tied in knots to keep it from untwisting, hung almost to the bot- 
tom of the gown: the sleeves were long, and came over the hands, 
something like the Chinese we see here. 

You could see these men, in any numbers, walking about. 
Sometimes you would see them leading a donkey, with a load of 
grass, which they had gathered, and were bringing into town to 
sell. They generally visited the hotels, with a little bunch of 
parsley, and an onion, and a carrot, to sell as pot herbs. How I 
pitied them when I first saw them. I gave them some pennies. 
Of course, I didn't take the pot herbs; I didn't need them. But I 
soon found out that that was their business. I never saw one look 
clean. Oh, how horrible! 

And these are the men they call holy, because they give up 
the world, and practice such rigid self-denial. How glad I am 
that God nowhere teaches that men have to go into filth and 
indolence in order to be holy. But He does say: "Cleanse your- 
self from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit and perfect holiness 
in the fear of the Lord." This is always the way when men 
change the truth of God for a lie, and begin to worship and adore 
the creature more than the Creator. 

Sunday, 12th. Miss Drake was tired, so she did not go out 
to church in the morning. But I wanted to have it to say that I 
had been to church in Borne. So I started off alone to the nearest 
English church. The schedule of the principal hotels and 
churches hangs in the office; so I had no difficulty in finding it. 
So I went. 

I found it was a High Church, almost Roman Catholic. They 
had candles, and choir boys, and they turned toward the east and 
bowed, and the atmosphere seemed like a vault. All this was new 
to me, for I had never been in a Protestant High Church before. 
How unsatisfying all this to one who knows Christ. For Him 
there is no substitute. 

Monday, 1st. A grand day sightseeing. We had our car- 
riage and our guide. What I was most anxious to see was St. 



290 



Autobiography of 



Peter's. So to this we went first. The magnificence of this great 
historic old church cannot be described by me. As we walked 
through its large corridors and halls, and as I stood and looked up 
at the great dome, I was almost awe-stricken. It seemed as 
though it was a mile away, in the sky. What stupendous thought 
had been put into its architecture, coloring, and statuary. 

A little to the right of the main entrance was a statue of St. 
Peter, in bronze, life size. I had heard that it had been visited by 
thousands of people, and that the great toe on the right foot had 
been kissed till it had been worn quite smooth. I went up and 
examined it, and found its smoothness really a fact; but whether 
the result of constant kissing, or whether from some other cause, 
I cannot say. I had no inclination whatever to kiss the toe; but 
I laid my right hand on it, and it felt cold. I said to myself, as I 
saw many come in and stand before it, and cross themselves and 
pray, *' That is all they get in return for their long pilgrimages, 
and their prayers and tears." How sad! How glad I am that the 
lines have fallen to me in a more pleasant place, and I have a 
goodly heritage. Praise the Lord! 

The next visit was to the Vatican and we walked through the 
great corridors, and admired the statuary and paintings, and my 
head ached with seeing so much. As we were passing down 
through a beautiful walk we heard some one shout out to us in a 
language we did not understand; but they motioned to us to get 
out of the way, and we stepped aside, and there came the Pope in 
his sedan chair, with his body guard of seven or eight men, return- 
ing from his morning outing; some were walking in front of him, 
some by his side, and others behind. And I thought to myself, 
" It was only a few years since that I heard the infallibility of the 
Pope was declared." And I thought if infallibility had to be guarded 
like that, what would be my safety in trusting in it. No. My 
faith is in the infallibility of God only. 

The next was the Coliseum, with its ruined walls. As the 
man went on telling us the great stories, and pointing out things 
of interest and explaining, I sometimes wondered if all he said 
was real fact, in every instance. But no one questions the veracity 
of the guides when one is sight-seeing. They are supposed to 
know everything you ask them, of course. 

He told us of the great arena where the Christians were thrown 
in and devoured by the starved lions, while thousands of specta- 



Amaxda Smith. 



291 



tors were gathered in the amphitheatre, to look on, with delight. 
And then I thought of Fox's Book of Martyrs, that I remember 
reading when I was quite a girl, and sometimes I wonder if much 
of the spirit of the age is not akin to it. Christianity has done 
wonders. Hallelujah! 

Then the Appian Way was pointed out to us, and the guide said, 
" That is the very road on which they brought Paul from the 
prison to the court." There was the very floor, inlaid in marble, 
like a pavement, on which he said Paul stood before Nero. 

The next was the Catacombs. We went down about six feet 
under ground, and entered a little narrow passage, and then he 
lighted tapers and gave each of us one. Then we entered a very 
large room; and on the clear, solid wall were beautifully painted a 
pulpit and altar, and nearly all the ritual of an English church 
service. The colors were as perfect as if it had been done but a 
little while; and yet it was more than two hundred years old. 
There were shelves,or niches, cut out in the rock, where their dead 
were laid; then these were closed up by masonry. A number of 
the bodies had been taken out by friends, and these spaces were 
open; but some remained still closed up. They had to go in and 
out by these subterranean passages, quietly. How much they 
must have suffered for His name in those dark days of persecu- 
tion. As I thought it all over, I said, ' Oh, will history repeat 
itself? May God in mercy deliver us." 

I was foolish enough to start off in a different direction from 
the others, alone; though the guide had said to me when we first 
went in, " Now keep close to me; " but, as he stood explaining and 
talking to Miss Drake, I turned into, as i thought, another room. 
But the turns were very intricate to one who does not know. It 
all seemed to me as the same hallway. But when I found myself 
I was out of the hearing of the others altogether. I kept turning, 
but didn't seem to come near them. Then I began to get fright- 
ened. Then I thought I would stand right still; and so I did, and 
prayed the Lord to help me. In a little while they came, looking 
for me. 

The guide said I did quite right to stop, for then they came 
and found me. If I had gone on turning they might have missed 
me entirely. 

My! I shudder as I think of it. But he never had to tell me 
to keep close after that. What a lesson I learned. I shall never 



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forget it. I had the lighted taper in my hand, but I should have 
obeyed my guide, and kept close, as he had told me. God gives 
us His Spirit, but we must walk in the light of the Spirit; then we 
will not fulfill the lust of the flesh, going in our own way. May 
He help us. Amen! 

Wednesday, September 15th. We leave Rome to-day for 
Naples. The little prayer I breathed just as we were starting, 
was, "Oh, God, for Christ's sake, send upon Rome the mighty 
power of the Holy Ghost. Let the people be awakened." 

We reached Naples at about half past five or six o'clock p. m. 
The hotel where we stopped was very fine. We preferred stopping 
at a hotel where English was mostly spoken, as neither Miss Drake 
nor I were familiar with the French language. We noticed the 
city abounded with churches; and, on our way up from the sta- 
tion in the 'bus, as we passed several, the doors being open, as is 
usual, we could see persons in the confession boxes; some would be 
coming out, and others going in; and so many poor people seemed 
to be going hither and yon; and monks coming and going, as we 
saw at Rome. After we had our supper, as we were very weary, 
we soon retired. 

Thursday, 16th. Up early this morning, feeling quite refreshed 
from our journey. As we had but a day to spend, we thought we 
would do some sight-seeing; so we got a carriage and a guide, and 
drove to some of the principal points of interest. The most inter- 
esting, to me, was the great museum, which is quite elevated, and 
off in the distance we could see Mt. Vesuvius quite distinctly. 
One could see it very plainly on a clear day; but it shows very 
much better on a clear night. It looks like a great burning fur- 
nace in the distance. Then we went through the museum, and 
there we saw Pompeii in statuary, as it was, and as it is, in ruins. 

I had heard of excavations from Pompeii, and had read some 
little about them, but now I stood by them. Many of the things 
which were explained to us have gone from my memory since 
then, but some are very distinct. I remember one figure showed 
a baker; there he stood by the oven, seemingly just in the act of 
putting in bread; there was the table, with the bread and pans, all 
perfect. Another was a person lying on a sofa, asleep. There were 
policemen standing at the gates going into the city, all perfect. 
All this seemed to me so wonderful; and when the man was explain- 
ing all these things to us, sometimes it would thrill through me 
with sadness, 



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Naples is situated at the head of the bay of the same name. 
The bay is beautifully shaped, something like a horseshoe. Round 
about is quite mountainous; so at certain points as you ascend 
these mountains, when you get to the top, you can look off in the 
distance, and around, and see all the great city below and about 
you. I thought it was very beautiful; and I kept the great Mt. 
Vesuvius in my mind and thought for days together. When they 
told me of the red hot lava which this historic mount belched up and 
sent rolling down its sides, I wondered how it was that the people 
seemed to be in such peace and quietness as they were. There were 
houses very near the base of the mountain as we looked off, with 
patches of green that had been tilled for gardens, or what not. 

Xo one seemed to be annoyed or thoughtful about it; and I 
thought how easy it is for us to get used to horrors and sadness. 

After we had gone about a great deal, we drove back to our 
hotel, had our lunch, and a little rest, and then took another short 
drive; but the clouds gathered, and a little misty rain came up, 
so we did not go very far. Then Miss Drake began to get a little 
uneasy to know when the steamer would leave for Alexandria, 
though they had told us they would send us word; but as we were 
out we went to see, and there I lost my beautiful umbrella. A 
lady in England had given me a sovereign, and said, " Mrs. Smith, 
you must get you a nice umbrella;" so while I was at Eastbourne 
I saw a very pretty umbrella, and I thought I must do as I was 
told, and I got it, though I didn't pay quite that amount for it. 

After we had been to the office and made inquiries about the 
steamer, and were satisfied, we returned to the hotel. The rain 
had stopped, though it was not clear yet, so I set my umbrella 
down in the carriage beside me, and when I got out I never 
thought of it. The next day, just as we got on board the steamer 
to leave for Alexandria, I thought of my umbrella. I paid a man 
a dollar to go back for it. It was an hour or two before the 
steamer would leave. He was very polite and kind, and was surely 
going to bring it; but when he came back he said he could not 
find the man, but if I would give him another dollar he would go 
where he thought the man had gone! But I saw there was game 
in that arrangement, so I told him he needn't mind. Then he 
said he would send it to me, and I saw there was more game. I 
was very sorry to lose my nice umbrella, but it was so good that 
the Lord kept my heart very quiet. 



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Friday, Sept. 17th, 1879. We are on the steamer for Alexan- 
dria. They said if you made up your mind not to be seasick, you 
would not be seasick; and so I made up my mind, and my mind 
made up its mind that it would not hold still, and I was just as 
seasick as I could be. 

Sunday, 19th. A lovely morning; so quiet. I am better, 
praise the Lord. They told us when we were leaving Paris that 
we must not touch water on the continent; that the water was 
very bad, and everybody drank wine. And on the steamer they 
drank wine like water; the children and all drank wine; I expected 
to see everybody drunk, and I had a little queer feeling come over 
me. I thought, "Dearie me, what a time we will have if these 
people get to rowing." 

Ladies and gentlemen, children, fathers and mothers, all 
drank wine, but they didn't seem to get out of the way. When 
we sat at the table and chose water instead of wine, they looked at 
us in astonishment. Then I asked how it was they could all drink 
so much wine and not get drunk. They said it was light wine and 
would not intoxicate. And then I wondered if that was not the 
snare so many got in; beginning with the innocent light wine, and 
ending up with that that is full of weights that hold them down, 
so that when they would rise they cannot. 

Well, Miss Drake and I got through without touching either 
the light or the stronger wine, and we never had a moment's sick- 
ness, outside of the simple seasickness, with all of our fatigue and 
weariness, for sight-seeing is wearisome, especially when done in a 
rush, as we did it, and the like of which I never want to do again. 
Our steamer was due on the twenty-fourth, so we had no time to 
delay. 

Monday, 20th. The morning is bright and pleasant. My 
morning thought is, "Oh, Christ, Thou art a reality; make me 
more like Thyself." 

How balmy the air, and how bright the sunshine! So differ- 
ent from England. The passengers on board are very kind and 
polite. I think the French have the first rank among all the 
nations in this particular. As far as I have seen it seems to be 
natural to them, children and all. It is no effort to be polite and 
courteous. Even in Rome I noticed in the railway 'bus, where it 
was rather crowded, when I stepped in a beautiful little lad arose 
and, with a smile and tipping h*is hat, he pointed me to his seat. 



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295 



In Paris I was walking through the park one day and there were 
numbers of children playing, and one little fellow sitting on a seat 
near by, and as I stood looking at the beauty around, he at once 
arose and, with a beautiful air and tip of the hat, offered me his seat. 
It was so beautiful, so different from what one sees at home. I 
came near shouting right out, " Praise the Lord! " 
Tuesday, 21st. 

"Precious promise God hath given 
To the weary passer by." 

Praise the Lord! " My soul, wait thou on God. My expecta- 
tion is from Him." We are nearing Alexandria, Egypt. The 
great old historic Egypt! Egypt that I have read of in the Bible! 
Can it be possible? 

Ten a. m. Here we are in the bay. Praise the Lord. And 
who are these men coming off in the boats? There are four or 
five boats, all manned, each with six, eight, ten or twelve men — 
black men — my own race. I had been so long without seeing any 
of my own people that I felt like giving three cheers! 

I never saw such scientific rowing in my life. They stood up 
instead of sitting down, but, Oh, how perfectly they bent to their 
oars. They had on little red skull caps, with black tassels on the 
top, and neat black alpaca coats. I presume they were Moham- 
medans, as they dressed just like the Mohammedans in India. 
Many of them were fine looking men, black as silk and straight as 
arrows, well developed, and independent as kings. They moved 
about and did the business intelligently, and with promptness and 
ease. They didn't know what it was to crouch to any man. I 
felt proud that I belonged to that race when I saw such nobility 
in ebony. Then I thought of the passage in the Old Testament 
history: "Princes shall come out of Egypt." Then I remem- 
bered it was the birthplace of Moses, and the hiding place of the 
infant Jesus from the cruelty of Herod, the king. And out of all 
the world round it pleased God to bestow this great honor on the 
black race, which ought to be held in everlasting remembrance. 
And I prefer being black, if for no other reason than to share this 
great honor with my race. 

After a good night's rest we went to visit the great pyramids, 
which was a drive of, I think, about four miles out of the city of 
Alexandria. We made all our arrangements over night. 



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Next morning' everything was prompt and we were called in 
time, and our breakfast was ready promptly at five, so that we nad 
plenty of time, and at six we were off. I thought Alexandria — 
what we saw of it — was a beautiful city. Many of the houses 
were large and spacious, and there were large, fine hotels. I for- 
get the name of the hotel where we stopped, and on what avenue 
it was, but it was a wide avenue through the center of the town. 
Just opposite this hotel was a much larger one; it covered almost 
a half block. There were large ice cream parlors below, and the 
awnings came out over the sidewalk. It was beautifully lighted 
and they had exquisite music, and English ladies and gentlemen 
were sitting out round the ice cream tables, and it really seemed 
more like England or America than Egypt. How sorry I was, 
when in Africa, to hear of the sacking and burning of Alexandria 
at the time of the great Afghan war. 

We were told that there were some missionaries who had got 
pretty well established, and were doing good work. But, Oh, war 
is so destructive and demoralizing in its sweep. And probably all 
that had been gained at this time was lost again. 

On our way to the pyramids our drive was over the same road 
that had been especially built for the Prince of Wales when he 
visited Alexandria a year or two before, and but for this royal 
visit our drive to the pyramids would have been very rough. 

This was the first time I ever heard of, or saw, the eucalyptus 
tree. All along the royal highway, on either side, were these trees; 
they had grown up and formed a high archway; it was very beauti- 
ful, and one felt inclined to linger in its shade out of the hot sun. 

I think I got a little idea of what Paul meant when he said, 
"Lay aside every weight and run the race with patience." I 
never saw such pretty, scientific running in all my life, as certain 
men there did. They were tall, lank looking fellows; on the head 
they wore a simple white skull cap, and around the body a light, 
white cloth, of about three or four yards in length, the weight of 
which would be very little over a pound; under this would be, 
fitting close to their bodies, a little jacket with long sleeves, and 
made of the same material, or perhaps a little bit stronger. Their 
business, or profession, was begging. When our carriage had got 
just outside the city there started after us a half dozen or more of 
these gentlemen, shouting as they ran, "Backsheesh " (give me a 
penny), "backsheesh, backsheesh. " 



Amanda Smith. 



297 



Our guide, who sat with the driver, to point out and explain 
everything to us, warned us against giving these gentlemen any- 
thing. He said if we encouraged them the least bit they would 
annoy us so we could not get rid of them. 

But then they were so very polite, and bowed so gracefully, 
and ran so nicely, and they patted their stomachs and opened their 
mouths to say they were hungry, and their stomachs were empty, 
and I pitied them. The guide saw I was rather stuck on them,, 
and he kept his eye on me pretty close for awhile; but he turned 
his head, when he thought I was pretty thoroughly converted 
after all he had said and explained, and I dropped a few pennies 
for these poor fellows — about five cents of our money — and such 
a rush and yell I never saw or heard. Then I did get a little scared. 
He said, "I told you that if you gave them anything you would 
be annoyed. " 

Poor Miss Drake didn't know what I did; she declared she 
hadn't given them a cent; and I tried to look strange and blank. 
She said, " Did you give them anything, Amanda ': " 

" Oh, I only threw out a few pennies/' I replied. 

So the cat was out; and though our horses were under good 
speed, our driver touched them up, and we went on faster; and 
these gentlemen touched up, and came on faster, but they did it 
so gracefully and beautifully. 

''Well," I thought, "I have done it now." 

Finally they began to drop off one at a time till we were left 
with but two; these accompanied us to the pyramids, and offered 
to run up to the top for sixpence, if we would give it to them. I 
thought it was about worth that to go up to the top of that huge 
pile of stone, for that was what it seemed like; but I couldn't 
make the offer, for I had done enough; so they ran up a little ways 
and came back. 

We walked about a little, and looked into the .tomb where 
they said the wife of a king was buried; there was nothing in the 
looks of it that was specially interesting. 

Then I saw the great sphinx. I used to wonder what it was; 
but now my curiosity was satisfied. We spent about two hours, 
and then drove back to Alexandria, and at two o'clock in the after- 
noon we left for Suez. 

Suez, Egypt. The hotel where we stopped was kept by an 
Englishman, and most of the guests were English. I had no difn- 



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ctilty on account of my color; everybody acted naturally and with 
common sense. 

At dinner I noticed two gentlemen, who sat opposite us; they 
looked familiar to me. I thought they might be Americans. I 
noticed they looked at me very sharply, and as though they would 
like to speak, but they did not, and I felt like I would like to 
speak to them; but then I thought, "They are strangers;, they 
seem as though they know me; but can it be that anybody in 
Egypt knows Amanda Smith? " 

I said to Miss Drake, "I am sure I know those gentlemen, but 
I don't like to speak to them." 

The next morning we met again, and Mr. Leech (for that was 
the name of one of the gentlemen) came up and spoke to me, and 
said, " Is not this Amanda Smith? " 

" Yes," I said. 

"I thought last night it was you; indeed, I was quite sure; 
but after dinner I went to the office and looked at the register and 
saw your name." 

They were two ministers from Newcastle-on-Tyne; one a 
Presbyterian, and the other a Congregationalism Both of them 
had helped me in the meetings that I held at Newcastle, at Mr. 
Lambert's hall. I introduced them to Miss Drake, and they were 
so nice they made it very pleasant for us. 

They had been to Alexandria, and now were in Suez, on their 
way home to England. They took this little trip of two or three 
weeks on their vacation. They told us of the great Mahommedan 
school at Alexandria, which they had visited, of eight hundred 
students, studying the Koran. It is the largest college in the 
world where all the students study one thing. They said it was 
a wonderful sight to see them; they all sit on mats on the floor (all 
men or boys), and they rock themselves back and forth, and study 
aloud, so that the din is something fearful! They are supposed to 
commit the whole of the Koran to memory. How I should like to 
have seen that school. But we hadn't much time. So that was 
one of the things we missed. 

These gentlemen, whom I have mentioned, had a day with us 
before their steamer came; so they walked out with us, and 
showed us different places. What was very interesting to me, was 
the way they did their irrigating. I had never seen it in this 
fashion before. 



Amanda Smith. 



299 



There were large plots of ground laid out, as far as your eye 
could see. There were old-fashioned pumps, such as they had a 
hundred years ago, I suppose; then there were long, wooden 
troughs leading to the trenches, about five and ten feet apart; they 
would pump the water into these troughs, and it would run and 
fill up all the trenches, and then the women and children would 
stand on either side of the beds, and with their hands throw the 
water, and so water the beds. Oh, how hard and tedious! But 
then they never thought of doing any other way than the way 
their fathers did That was all they cared to know. 

The onions and salads and water cress raised in these gardens 
were very green and nice. How my heart turnpd to God in prayer 
for poor Egypt. Only God can change the hearts of these people 
here, and make the desert blossom as the rose. Lord, once more, 
send light and help to Egypt! 

When God called Jesus out of Egypt from the wrath of Herod 
the king, and when the light had gone out, darkness settled down 
on Egypt, and still lingers. If the light that is in you become 
darkness, how great the darkness! 

Our steamer was due at Suez on Thursday, but it did not come 
until Sunday. We had these days to wait. I was rather glad, for 
I thought I never was so tired in my life. But still if we had 
known the steamer would not come till Sunday, we could have 
gone up to Jerusalem. These gentlemen told us we could go in 
twenty-four hours by stage. 

Parties went up that way often; but they made all the 
arrangements a day or two ahead; which we might have done, 
and got back by Saturday night. That was the nearest to Jeru- 
salem that I ever was, and ever will be again, until I get to the 
Jerusalem above. T suppose. However, there is nothing impossi- 
ble, and now that the railroad is there I would not be surprised to 
find myself going up on the train some day, especially if God 
said so. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 



INDIA — NOTES FROM MY DIARY — BASSIM — A BLESSING AT FAMILY 
PRAYER — NAINI TAL — TERRIBLE FLOODS AND DESTRUCTION 
OF LIFE. 

We sailed from Suez Oct. 26th, 1879, for Bombay, and arrived 
at our destination Nov. 12th. I remained at Bombay until Jan. 
1st, 1880, visiting, in the meantime, various places where M. E. 
Churches have been established, and holding meetings as oppor- 
tunity offered. 

Miss Drake remained in Bombay, and I had for a traveling 
companion for some time afterwards, Miss Jennie Frow, a mis- 
sionary stationed at Chaculdah, who had been on a visit to Bom- 
bay, and now was returning to her work. 

January 1st, 1880. The Lord's Word to me this morning is, 
" Lo, I am with you always. " I leave for Cawnpore. Watch night 
at Dr. Thoburn's church at Calcutta. I dine with Brother Good- 
win, and the Stones, of Ohio. 

Monday, 5th. Cawnpore. Praise the Lord for this quiet day 
of rest. A nice drive to Memorial Gardens. What a sad fate that 
of those who sleep there! How dreadful the story of the Cawnpore 
well, where so many were massacred and thrown in at the time of 
the great Indian mutiny. 

Wednesday, 7th. Conference opens to-day. A solemn but 
blessed time. The meeting of so many friends. How much it 
seemed like home to me. Praise the Lord! My head is very 
tired, but my soul is fresh. 

Thursday, 22nd. Allahabad. Spend the day with Brother 
Dennis Osborn, 

Saturday, 24th. My last Saturday in Alahabad. We go to 
the Maila. It is like what we would call in this country a fair. 
Oh, the hundreds of people. Oh, to see the heathen idol worship! 

(300) 



Amanda Smith. 



301 



How sad to see the different idols they worship displayed on their 
flags and in every possible shape and way. My heart ached, and 
I prayed to the Lord to send help and light to these poor heathen. 

Friday, Feb. 13th. Dear Jennie Frow is not so well to-day. 
God bless her! It is now Jennie Fuller. She was married since 
then. We leave to-day for Xagpore. Praise God for His great 
care over us during the night. We had to drive with the bullocks 
this fifty-one miles back to Acola. They had been mending the 
road, and there was a great deep gutter about a quarter of a mile 
in length. We had to change our bullocks three times: and the 
third time we thought we had got a very stupid driver: we got to a 
place where the bullocks-would not go on. and the man seemed to 
be stupid. Poor Miss Frow remonstrated, and told him to go on: 
but the bullocks would not go: so we thought we would get out, 
and see what was the matter. It was very dark, and there were no 
lights; and when we got out and walked ahead two or three yards 
we saw the great danger we were in: if the bullocks had gone on, 
they would have surely broken their Decks, and we might have 
been killed. Oh, how we praised the Lord when we saw the 
danger that God had saved us from. Then we had to turn the 
bullocks down on the lower road. 

There are generally two roads; a native road, and an English 
road; the English roads were better, as a rule; they generally kept 
in their provinces good roads: we were on the English road, so we 
had to turn out and go down on the native road, which was very 
rough, because they never mended them, or made any repairs on 
them. 

Sunday. 22nd. A meeting at Camp Te to-night. The Lord 
helped me this once. He led me to give my experience, and I had 
great liberty, and he made it a blessing. We leave for Elegepore. 
I feel I ought to stay. There was such an interest manifested in 
the grand aftermeeting. 

Col. Whitlock was a very earnest Christian gentleman; he had 
a very beautiful little daughter, and one night when we were hold- 
ing meeting in a large hall (he always took an interest in any 
religious meeting, which was not very customary among English 
soldiers), his little daughter, about ten years old, became very 
much interested, and when I asked them to rise for prayers, among 
others in the great congregation, this little girl rose: and the Lord 
blessed her; she seemed very happy and bright. H<-r father was 



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Autobiography op 



delighted with her decision; the mother, too; but still she was 
afraid she did not understand what she was doing. But the little 
thing persisted, and had the sympathy and help of her father. So 
she would have her mother come to me next day, and I had a very 
nice Christian talk with her, and told her how she might help the 
little child, and she seemed very much pleased. 

The child acted out her position by beginning to do some- 
thing. Her mother kept a Hindoo derzy; a man who does all the 
sewing and mending and everything of the kind, in a family. 
Some of them have two or three. You will find them in almost 
every family in India. All the clothes to be made or mended 
are given to these men, and they sit £own in a corner that is 
arranged for them, and do the sewing. They come and go, morn- 
ing and evening, and are very quiet. They never pass about 
through the house only at their work. This one had been living 
with them a long time, and was a pucka Hindoo; that is, what we 
would call strong, or rank, or staunch in their faith. 

So little Ethel began to tell him about what Jesus could do; 
and as she could talk the native language as well as a native, he 
listened to her; and she kept it up till he got so interested he asked 
her for a Testament; and so she got a Testament, and made the old 
man promise that he would read it. He was greatly pleased 
with it. 

Who knows but what that child, though but ten years old, 
who was the means of getting that Hindoo to read the Testament, 
was sent by God with light to this poor, dark mind. 

44 It may not be my way, 
It may not be thy way; 
But yet, in His own way, 
The Lord will provide." 

When we went to leave, Mrs. Whitlock gave me a very hand- 
some India shawl, and prepared us a beautiful lunch, and in so 
many ways was kind. In the lunch, she put two loaves of bread, 
a half dozen boiled eggs, six bottles of lemonade, a bottle of cham- 
pagne, a bottle of wine, and I don't know what all else; but she 
sent a man with a note on Sunday afternoon, and this beautiful 
basket of lunch. 

My! what a time I had over it. I couldn't send it back. The 
shawl was an elegant thing. It was about a twenty-five dollar 



Amanda Smith. 



303 



shawl. The only objection I had to it, was, it was scarlet. But, 
still, that was not much, for I could get it dyed. But, I thought 
to myself, "What will I do with this wine and brandy? " I knew 
Miss Frow would not touch it, and I was a staunch teetotaler. " If 
I take it and say nothing about it, she may think, and tell some- 
body, that I was a good woman, and yet I accepted it," and I 
didn't know what to do. 

So I prayed about it very earnestly. The enemy wanted to 
make me believe that she would be greatly offended, and that now 
I would undo all the good work that I might have done. Oh, how 
terribly tempted I was over that! 

Sunday night was my last night. I spoke at the hall. 

And that was the night I had promised to speak more espec- 
ially of temperance. But then I had received a bottle of wine and 
a bottle of champagne. So the Devil suggested to me that nobody 
would know it, and now if Col. and Mrs. Whitlock were there, it 
would be better for me not to say anything about it, after they 
had been so very kind, and that they did not see it like I did. So 
I reasoned. 

At last I resolved by the grace of God I would tell Mrs. Whit- 
lock that I could not have it, and would go on and speak on tem- 
perance in the meeting, as I had intended. So, when the time 
came, I went to church. 

Just as I got to the door going in, I met Col. and Mrs. Whit- 
lock, and little Ethel; so I very kindly thanked the lady for the 
elegant shawl, and for the lunch which she had sent me; but then, 
I said, " Now what will I do with the bottle of champagne and 
the wine? for I am a staunch teetotaler; I never touch it." 

" Miss Frow looks so pale," she said, " I thought a little wine 
would do her good." 

"But, Oh," I said, "she would not touch it for the world. 
She is also a staunch teetotaler." 

Then she laughed, and said, "You do with it, Mrs. Smith, 
anything you like." 

I thanked her very kindly, and told her I would. 

The Lord gave me liberty in speaking that night, and I was 
very strong on the subject of temperance. No one was offended. 
Everybody seemed to be much interested and pleased. 

We went from there up to Chaculdah. That was Miss Frow's 
station. Mr. and Mrs. Sibley were there in charge of this station, 
and she was their assistant. 



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Autobiography op 



What a pleasant time we had at Chaculdah. There was a 
poor, old, native Christian woman who was very ill. She had been 
a very faithful servant in a Eurasian family for years; but because 
of great persecution from her own people on account of caste, 
though she believed in Christianity, she never came out. But 
when she got feeble, and sick, and very bad off, she went over to 
Mrs. Sibley's instead of going to her own people; she wanted to be 
a Christian; and they put her in a little house where she was very 
comfortable. 

She was very fond of Miss Frow. So the first thing we did 
after we got home and rested a little, we went in to see this old 
woman. Oh, how emaciated she was! so worn; and she was dying; 
but she seemed to be happy. Miss Frow talked and prayed with 
her. 

When we went out I said to Miss Frow: 

" How would it do to give this woman (she is dying anyhow) 
a little of that wine? " 

''Oh," she said, "I wouldn't dare to do it. She used to like 
it very much. They used to have it, of course, in the families 
where she had been so long, and she had got to like it, and it 
might be the means of diverting her mind. I had rather she 
would die without it." 

So there I had it to contend with. 

In a few days the old woman passed away. That was the first 
native Christian funeral I had seen. They dressed her nicely, and 
then the natives came and embalmed her, and then we carried her 
to the grave. 

I shall never forget how pretty and nice it looked in the grave. 
She was the first native Christian that had been buried in that 
part of the country at that time, so it made quite a sensation. 
The grave was dug down a certain depth, and then dug out in the 
side so as to form a kind of niche, or shelf, and she was laid in this 
niche, then the earth was thrown in; so that the earth was not 
thrown on her, like we do here, and I thought how nice it was; I 
wouldn't mind being buried there myself. I think it is a much 
better way than putting the earth right on top of the coffin. 

There we left her, to rest till the morning of the resurrection, 
when the trump shall sound, and when the dead in Christ shall 
rise. The grave did not seem to have gloom and sadness, even in 
India, with Christ. 



Amanda Smith. 



305 



From Chaculdah I went to Lenoula. I kept this wine and 
champagne in my lunch basket, well covered up. I was so afraid 
somebody would see it, and if the natives saw it, I would not be 
able to explain. I thought I would take it to Bombay and give it 
to old Sister Miles, who was a grand, good woman, in the hospital 
at Bombay and, like Dorcas, ''full of good works all the time." 

••Well," I said to myself, " Mrs. Whitlock said I could do 
with it what I pleased, and I will give it to Sister Miles. She is 
so judicious and careful, she will know whom to give it to — the 
very weak and faint ones who are about to die; 1 don't think it 
would be any harm to give it to them." 

Brother Fox was Presiding Elder, and it was Quarterly Meet- 
ing at Lenoula. So after resting all day, they had meeting Friday 
night. At first I thought I would not go out, as it was quite a 
little walk from the house to the church. Then the moon was so 
beautiful and the evening was so pleasant, that I decided to go. 

The Lord's hand was in it. He had a great lesson to teach 
me. Brother Fox preached. A number of natives were taken in. 
Then we had an after meeting. It was full of interest and spirit. 

Just as Brother Fox went to close the meeting, a man rose in 
the rear of the church, a fine looking Englishman; how well I 
remember him; I can see him now. He was a man that weighed 
about a hundred and fifty, and was about five feet and something 
in height; he was dressed in pure white, and had a full, round, 
flush, English face, with black hair and black eyes. I had 
noticed he had sat very seriously looking and listening all through 
the service. But now he was on his feet, and he called out: 

" Brethren, I want to speak a word. " 

" Go on, certainly," Brother Fox said. 

And he said, in a most deploring, pleading way, "Oh, breth- 
ren, brethren, whatever you do, be careful about strong drink. 
Don't ever advise any one to take it, under any circumstances, " etc. 

My! I trembled. I thought, "There, now, everybody knows 
I have those bottles." 

They were in the lunch basket, well covered up, away back 
under the bed in my room. But it seemed to me somebody had 
found it out. 

Well, I heard the story of this man. He said: " I have been 
a man that has been addicted to strong drink, and I have been 
overcome. It has been my ruin. But I came here and was con 



306 



Autobiography op 



verted, and for two years I went on, and the Lord blessed me. But 
I was not here at the last Quarterly Meeting"; and why? Because 
I had been overcome. I was sick with diarrhoea, very bad, and 
a good brother came in to see me, and he told me if I were to take 
blackberry brandy it would cure me. I took it. The diarrhcea 
stopped, but it brought back the old appetite, and for six weeks I 
was in the gutter. For God's sake, don't advise anybody to take 
it. Better let them die." 

And then he sat down. 

"Lord," I said, "help." 

There was a sad feeling that went over the house. Then 
Brother Fox got up and emphasized what he had said, and told an 
experience similar that he knew of, and then another, and another. 

One man stated another case: He said that he knew a man 
who was very ill. They took him to the hospital. He was about 
dead, as they thought, so he prayed and gave himself to the Lord, 
and was very peaceful and happy. It pleased the Lord after 
awhile to restore him sc that he became quite convalescent, and 
one day a friend went to see him and he looked so weak and pale 
that he thought that just a little wine might refresh and 
strengthen him, so he got some wine and took it to him. It 
brought on the old appetite so strong that that night this man 
slipped away from the hospital and went into the town and got 
some cheap whisky and got so terribly drunk that next morning 
when they found him he was in the gutter dying. 

"Lord, deliver me," I thought, " can it be that they know I 
was going to take this wine to Sister Miles? By the grace of God 
I will never do it. Though she is judicious and careful, it might 
not be the thing." 

On Monday morning, about five o'clock, I left Lenoula for 
Bombay. I never told anybody about what I had. They all sup- 
posed it was nothing but lunch in my basket, as everybody carried 
a lunch basket. And after the train left the station and we got 
pretty well under way, and there was nobody in the compartment 
but myself (the Lord helped me to be alone, for I said, "Now, 
Lord, help me to get rid of this champagne and wine"), I took the 
bottle of champagne, and just as we were crossing a very deep cut, 
about fifty or a hundred feet deep, I threw out the bottle and 
heard it rumble and gurgle as it went down. 

"Dust to dust, ashes to ashes/* I said, then out went the 
other bottle. 



Amanda Smith. 



307 



No one saw me, and I expect they are there yet, for the cut 
was so deep that no mortal would ever go down after them, I 
think. And that is the way I got deliverance from my cham- 
pagne and wine. 

The day we left for Chaculdah we prayed around — Miss 
Wheeler, Miss Frow, and I. last. I had been so deeply touched at 
seeing the sacrifice and need of these poor girls. They were there 
all alone. Fifty-one miles was the nearest railway station. And 
but two or three English families within two miles of them, except 
some English officers' headquarters. 

Two of these officers had their wives there some of the time, 
but they are often, both husbands and wives, far from being Chris- 
tians, and have but little sympathy with missionaries and their 
work. So these two girls, being there alone, were looked upon 
with a kind of suspicion. Xo woman had ever been known to 
build a house before. But Miss Wheeler had been her own archi- 
tect and superintended her work, bought her lime, and tiles, and 
thatch, and everything. 

I have known h^r while I was there to be out counting tiles 
from six o'clock in the evening till nine and sometimes ten o'clock 
at night. 

The native men whom they had to deal with, felt like some of 
the English officers who were there. They thought that a woman 
had not sense enough to build a house, and if she had she ought 
not to do it, for it was lowering her dignity as a woman. 

So the men gave them a great deal of trouble. They would 
come and make fine promises, then you must pay them so much 
money before they brought the things you needed or ordered. 
Then they would go away, and you might see them again in two 
or three days, or a week, or maybe not all. All this time you 
could do nothing, but you must wait. 

A thing of that kind might happen two or three times during 
a month. So the work was delayed, and they had much to con- 
tend with. 

It was three miles to the nearest village, of more than two 
thousand inhabitants, where Miss Wheeler used to go almost every 
day and do her missionary work in the zenanas, or preach to a 
crowd in some open space in the village, or under a tree. Then 
they had a room where she dispensed medicines two or three times 
a week, as the case might be. 



308 



Autobiography of 



Miss Lucy Drake, now Mrs. William B. Osborn, of Hackets- 
town, with Miss Wheeler, was the first to start the work at Bassim, 
under the auspices of Dr. Cullis, of Boston, but after a year or so 
Miss Drake's health failed and she returned to America, but Miss 
Wheeler remained. She has never been home since she left. She 
is a marvel. Her powers of endurance and stick-to-it-iveness and 
deep heart loyalty to God have made her rightly called one of God's 
noble women. 

If they needed a loaf of bread, or a pound of sugar or flour, or 
the most trivial article, if they didn't happen to have it in the 
house, they had to go, or send, fifty-one miles for it, which gener- 
ally took about three days, with a slow-going ox cart, as we would 
say, but bullock wagon, as they say in India. 

Those were the pioneer days. God has wrought wonders since 
then. Praise His name. How I did pity and sympathize with 
these poor girls. 

So while I was praying the morning before I left the Spirit of 
the Lord came upon me in a wonderful manner, and I was led to 
pray, "Oh, Lord, put it into somebody's heart to build a railroad 
through this part of the country, so it will not be so hard for those 
who are isolated to get the things they so often need." 

I shall never forget how I felt as I prayed. And these words 
came to me: "Therefore I say unto you, all things whatsoever 
you ask in faith believing, ye shall receive." And I saw a rail- 
road as really as I ever saw a railroad, by faith. 

When I rose they laughed at me, and said, "You think we 
will have a railroad? " 

" Yes," I said, " God will do it. You will see." 

And it did come to pass in less than two years after, that the 
East Indian Railroad Company put a railroad right through that 
section of country and, I was told, a station within two miles of 
Bassim Faith Mission House. That was the name inscribed on 
the front of the building. 

While I was in Africa a Mrs. Wills, from Bassa, Liberia, was 
in London on a visit. She went to a meeting at Miss Mason's 
House of Rest, and there she met a lady who told her to tell me 
when she got back to Africa that the prayer I had prayed in India 
for a railroad to Bassim had been answered, and the railroad was 
finished. 

That was the first I knew of it from the time I prayed, and I 
said, "Praise the Lord. Is there anything too hard for God? " 



Amanda Smith. 



309 



Naini Tal, India, Wednesday, September 15, 1880. The morn- 
ing is beautiful. Miss Fannie Sparks and I take our men and go 
up to what is called the snow seat. It is about two miles, I sup- 
pose, right up hill. The men who carry you in the dandies, 
when they get to a certain point on the hill, turn you round, 
and carry you up backwards. I don't know why they do this, 
but I think they have an idea that you are not so heavy car- 
ried that way. Miss Sparks had four men and I had four. When 
we got up to the top of the hill we found it very broad, a kind 
of tableland. You can look for miles away, and the hills are 
covered with snow. 

When they put us down, and we stepped out of our chairs 
and turned round, we looked right on the great mountain ridge of 
snow, beautifully white, and the sun shining on it like silver. Ohl 
I thought I never saw anything so beautiful. I wanted to shout 
right out, and wave my hat. 

But then one has to be so careful, because the natives watch 
you, and they think that it means you are worshiping the snow or 
the great mountains. So I had to restrain myself from shouting 
and dancing. 

Oh! the sight was glorious to behold! Miss Sparks and I 
walked about, and then we sat down and had a nice little Bible 
reading together, and then we knelt down and had such a blessed 
prayer meeting. I shall never forget that morning. 

That night, Wednesday night, was our prayer meeting. We 
were not very spiritual, still we had a good meeting. 

Thursday, September 16th. The day the great flood began. 
It rained all day Thursday. Sometimes it would lighten up, and 
seem as though it was going to clear off; then a heavy cloud and 
fog would set in, and the rain would pour. All day Thursday, all 
night Thursday night, all day Friday, and all night Friday night. 

By that time we began to get serious; we wondered; for the 
water ran in torrents; great trenches would give way in the ground; 
banks were falling in; and we did not know but danger was com- 
ing to us. 

Miss Sparks, and dear Miss Leighton, who has recently gone 
to her rest, were staying at the Mission House, with Mr. and 
Mrs. Mudge, and we were expecting to return to the plains the 
following week. Mr. G. N. Cheney was pastor of the Methodist 
Church. Rev. Mr. Buck was pastor of the native work. I stayed 



310 



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with Mr. and Mrs. Buck, at their home. I shall never forget their 
kindness to me. 

Friday night we didn't sleep much. Mr. Buck was up most 
of the night, working;, he and the boys. I had four boys and Miss 
Swain had four. We generally had to keep these boys by the 
month, so as to have them when we wanted to go anywhere; for 
we could not walk up the hills, they were so steep and long. We 
didn't pay them much wages; we didn't have anything to do with 
finding their food, or anything of that kind. We gave them a suit, 
which was their outfit. 

In this, the Lord was good to me, for dear Mrs. Fleming gave 
my boys their suits, and made them; and they didn't cost me any- 
thing. I remember so well what they were, and how nice they 
looked; they were of a kind of brown flannel; the pants just reached 
to their knees; the coats were bound with red round the bottom 
and sleeves; and a little skull cap bound with red; they were very 
picturesque. There are always outhouses where the servants stay. 
These boys used to get wood and sell it days when they did not 
have anything else to do; so they kept along very nicely; I used to 
buy the wood from them sometimes. 

Weil, Mr. Buck and the boys worked all night almost. When 
Mr. Buck came in in the morning, he was very much exhausted. 
How pale he looked. We could not get any breakfast; nobody 
seemed to want anything to eat. 

He said we would have to pile up all the things in the house. 
So we began. The people up at the Mission House had piled their 
trunks outside. The water began to come in on them. 

Between three and four o'clock in the morning Miss Sparks 
and Miss Leighton came down to our house. We had got our 
things out of one part of the house, and piled them in the parlor; 
then we took them fiom there and piled them on the veranda out- 
side. 

When morning came we were all in the parlor having a little 
rest. Some one said we ought to have a prayer meeting; so we 
got down and prayed as best we could; then we rose, and were 
quietly thinking what was the next thing to be done. 

I went to my room, for I felt I could pray a little better alone. 
After awhile Miss Sparks came in, and she knelt down by the bed 
beside me, and we prayed. I shall never forget Miss Sparks' 
prayer. 



ill Men, Naini Tal. India. 



Amanda Smith. 



311 



When we arose she said, " The Lord has given me the assur- 
ance that this house will not go down." I said, " Amen." 

After we went out, the engineer, who had been examining the 
hillside, came by and said to Mr. Buck, " I think this end of your 
house will go; but the other end is on the rock, and I think it is 
safer. 

About nine o'clock the baker came. We got several loaves of 
bread, for that was about all we could get to eat. I bought two 
loaves for my men; they had not had anything to eat, and they 
were shivering with the cold, and were wet and hungry; but their 
caste feeling was so deep, that, hungry as they were, they would 
not touch the bread. One of them seemed for a moment to have 
forgotten; and just as I picked up a loaf and handed it to him, the 
other shouted to him, "'Don't you do it ! " and he threw it down 
as though he had had a snake. 

Poor fellows, how I pitied them! One day one of my boys was 
suffering with a pain in his stomach, and came to me for some 
medicine, he said. I had some Jamaica ginger, and I mixed some 
with some water and sugar, and brought it to him; I never 
thought but he would drink it right down; but, no, he said, he 
could not. 

" Well," I said, " what are you going to do?" And he went 
to a tree and got a leaf, and shaped it, and I had to pour the liquid 
in the leaf, then he drank it out of the leaf. If he had drunk it 
out of the glass he would have broken his caste. 

Oh, how they are anchored to that caste feeling! But God is 
delivering them. The door is open. Light is coming. Praise the 
Lord. 

The hotel was a very short distance from the mission house: 
perhaps a half block. There was a lady, whose name I have 
forgotten, who had come up from the plains a few days before, 
and was staying at the hotel (her father's), with her two children, 
and her native nurse. The youngest child was about a year old; 
the other about two years old. The nurse was giving the baby his 
bath in their room, and the mother had taken the other little boy, 
and gone out in the breakfast room to breakfast. She had not 
more than got out of the room when the side of the hill came 
down and buried the nurse and baby. 

Mr. Buck and I were standing on the veranda. Mr. Buck said, 
" Well, Sister Smith, this is terrible. " 



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Autobiography of 



" What will we do? " I said. 

It would be as dark almost at times as six o'clock in the even- 
ing. Then it would lighten up, and you would hope that the sun 
was coming out; but, no. 

After awhile Mr. Buck looked up the hill toward Government 
House. Government House was a large house where the Governor 
lived. It stood on a beautiful hill; and, though it was quite a 
ways up to Government House, it was beautiful to look from; the 
sight, when you got up, was charming, every way you would 
look. 

So, standing on the veranda, we could look eastward and see 
Government House quite distinctly, though it was about two and 
a half or three miles away. And, as Mr. Buck stood looking, he 
said to me, "Why, Sister Smith, just look at those trees." 

And just as I turned to look, the trees were swaying first one 
way, then another, and all at once there was a crash, and they 
went down so gracefully, and the earth plowed like a great ava- 
lanche. 

Well, there was a panic. Everybody left the house, and got 
out as quickly as he could; the news spread rapidly, and in a little 
while there were a hundred and fifty or two hundred men, many 
of them English soldiers, digging, trying to get out this child and 
nurse; and while they were digging away as hard as they could, 
and we were lamenting, and feeling the sadness that had come 
upon this family, the earth gave way again, and buried them. 

They didn't see the danger, and we couldn't alarm them; 
their heads were down as they were digging; and it struck the 
other part of the hotel and swept on, then it passed on like a great 
moving mountain; I never saw such a sight; it moved on, carry- 
ing great boulders on its face! 

The next was the large reading-room and postoffice that stood 
on the lake, the Hindoo Temple, and Bell's large store. 

I had just seen from the veranda some ladies and gentlemen 
go into the reading-room, and they had not come out; and there 
were persons in Bell's store whom I knew; one, a lady who was a 
very earnest Christian. I said to Mr, Buck, " Oh, Bell's store/' 
and I had hardly got the words out of my mouth when it was 
swept away! Then "The Reading Room," and I had no more 
than said it till it was taken! "And there goes the Temple next " 
and there it was in the lake! 



Amanda Smith. 



The lake was about a half-mile wide, and, perhaps, three 
miles in length; but the whole thing swept into the lake, and the 
noise was like the blast of a cannon, and the smoke ascended 
upwards; it swept everything clear; and there was not a brick of 
the chimney, or a piece of wood left. The horror of that hour I 
never want to see again! 

Then the men came and said we would all have to leave the 
house; so we started. We thought we would go to the Methodist 
Church; but the native Christian Church had been swept away, 
and so they had taken refuge in the church. 

The first native Christian had died on Friday night. She had 
been sick for quite a while, and Mrs. Buck and all went and did 
everything they could for her. 

She was in one of the outhouses on the hill. So Mrs. Buck 
and I went up and prepared her for her burial. Mrs. Buck dressed 
her in a nice white gown, combed her hair, washed her, and got 
her all ready to bury, and we left her lying on her bed and went 
down to the house; and about an hour and a half after it seemed 
like the Lord buried this woman Himself; for the house gave 
way, the ground opened, and she went down, bed and all, and was 
covered up. I never heard that she ever had any other burial! 

Well, when they told us we would have to leave the house, 
we thought we would go to Mr. Sasha's; he was a photographer. 
Everybody had to look out for himself; and I felt I was alone, 
and everybody had so many more cares, and so I had to do the 
best I could for myself. Miss Sparks and I were the last to leave 
the house. 

As we started down to Sasha's I thought I would go over to 
Mrs. Fleming's, which was about a quarter of a mile further along 
from our place. Mrs. Fleming had a large dressmaking establish- 
ment. Her men,, who worked for her (for the native men do all 
the dressmaking, pretty much, there,) are called derzies; some- 
times she would have twelve men, all sitting down on the floor in 
a row, sewing. She did the cutting and fitting, and these derzies 
did all the other work; the trimming and fixing of all kinds. 

Her men were all gone. They had sent the children away, 
and Mr. and Mrs. Fleming were the two last to leave the house, 
and they were going on horseback. I said to Mrs. Fleming, " I 
don't know what to do, or where to go." 

"Well," she said, "go with us as far as Sasha's." 



314 



Autobiography op 



The sweeping away of the Hindoo Temple had made the 
Hindoos so vexed; they felt, and thought, the Gods were angry 
with the missionaries, and so had destroyed their temple; and 
there was an expression of indignation on the countenance of every 
one. 

I remember as I was going along I would put my foot on what 
seemed to be a piece of turf, but it would give way, and some- 
times I would go down almost to my knee; sometimes when I 
would step on it I would stick in tight; once or twice I thought I 
was stuck fast; two or three of these men passed by, and with a 
scornful sneer they grinned as though they hoped I could not get 
out. 

I prayed to the Lord to help me, and finally I got to Sasha's. 
I went in. Miss Sparks, and Miss Leighton, and some others, had 
gathered there. Mrs. Sasha had a very sick baby; but she had 
had the servant get them a cup of tea, and they were getting a 
little refreshed; so when I got in they gave me a cup of tea, and 
Mrs. Sasha got me a pair of dry stockings; and just as I got my 
stockings on, and drank part of my tea, Mr. Mooney, an English- 
man, came and said, " You will have to get out of here as quick 
as you possibly can; all the houses on this hillside are falling 
down." 

Mrs. Sasha picked up her baby, supposed to be dying, in her 
arms, and started; we begged her to wait a little. She said, "It 
is easy for you all; you .have got religion, and something to com- 
fort you; but I have not." 

Then clasping her little baby she ran. Mr. Sasha got the 
hammock and sent the boys after her, with some other things, for 
she went without a bonnet. 

I was the last to get out of the house. I was so weak I 
trembled from head to foot. I was not excited; T was just weak; 
and it seemed to me I could never get my things on. But when I 
did get them on, Mr. Mooney — God bless that man; all the rest 
had gone — took me by the arm, and literally dragged me. He 
was a very strong man. As I think it over now it seems I can feel 
the grasp of his hand on my right arm. 

We went from there to a Mr. Frazier's, about a mile away, on 
the other side of the hill altogether. 

As I went along I said to myself, "The idea of running away 
from God." I said to Mr. Mooney, "I don't mean to go another 



Amanda Smith, B15 

peg; all the people can go who want to go; but I am done running; 
by the grace of God I shall not run anywhere. Running away 
from God! Lord, help me." And He did. 

We got over to Mr. Frazier's, I suppose about five o'clock in 
the afternoon. 

Mr. Frazier was a Scotchman; a very nice man. He had a 
large house, and he and his sons were there in some kind of gov- 
ernment business. So we were all very comfortable. They got us 
a very nice supper, and we were all enjoying it. But the sorrow 
and sadness among the poor soldiers' wives and their companies, 
and the weeping, were very touching. 

After we had had supper, and were sitting talking, each one 
telling how he got out, what he thought, what he did, etc., Mr. 
Buck began to feel anxious to know what had become of the 
poor, native Christians, and he said it was so dark he didn't know 
what to do. Mr. Mooney said, " I will go and see what has become 
of them/' Mr. Buck said he would be so glad if he would. So 
Mr. Mooney started off. About a half hour or more after he had 
gone, all at once there came over me a horror of darkness and 
awful sadness. I could not account for it. I left the room and 
went off to myself, and knelt down and prayed. Oh, how I prayed! 
I said, "Lord, there is no use going anywhere, but somebody is in 
awful danger." 

It seemed to come to me as though somebody was in danger; 
and so I prayed the Lord to deliver somebody from danger. My 
heart seemed to get a little quiet then, and I got up and went out 
into the room again. I looked at everybody, but no one seemed to 
be unhappy; they were peaceful and quiet; so I sat a while, and 
they talked on. 

Finally this agony came over me again; then I said to the 
brethren and friends, "Let us pray; I feel that somebody is in 
great danger; Oh! let us pray! " and we all knelt down and began 
to pray. When we got through we arose, and about a half hour 
afterward Mr. Mooney came back, and told what a narrow escape 
he had had from death; and looking at his watch, and comparing 
the time of the danger with the time I had had the agony, the 
time was identical. 

A flash of lightning saved him from going down into the lake; 
though he knew the road so well, the trees and boulders had so 
piled up across the road that he missed his way, and just as he 



316 



Autobiography of Amanda Smith. 



was going to step into the lake a flash of lightning came, and 
instead of stepping forward he stepped back, and to one side, and 
so was saved. 

Now, that seemed to be a strange coincidence; yet it was God. 
I shall never be able to tell anyone the awful agony that came over 
me to pray for somebody that was in danger. This man was my 
savior a few hours before; and, in answer to prayer, God helped 
me to be his savior a few hours later. Praise the Lord! He still 
moves in mysterious ways His wonders to perform. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 



THE GREAT MEETING AT BANGALORE — THE ORPHANAGE AT COLAR — 
BURMAH — CALCUTTA — ENGLAND. 

This was a blessed time. We should like to have stayed a few 
days longer; but previous engagements being made, we had to 
pass on with praise in our hearts to God that He gave us the priv- 
ilege of sowing, if only a little, for Him, and with prayers and 
tears to be watered, and in due time the harvest will be reaped. 
May the Lord help us to believe as we pray. 

Miss Anstea came to Bangalore to attend the meetings. She 
came, she said, for a definite object, and that was, for a renewed 
baptism of the Spirit; and, after waiting several days, the Lord 
helped her, among others, to claim by faith what she had asked 
for; and she returned to her home and work, filled; and when I 
got there and saw the work, I said in my heart, " If ever there was 
need of such an anointing and empowering, dear Miss Anstea 
needed it." 

Three hundred helpless souls God had committed to her care; 
and they leaned upon her as they would upon a mother. You 
have no idea of the care and anxiety and responsibility of such a 
position unless you were there to see it. 

In connection with the orphanage there are two farms: Naz- 
areth and Bethany. Miss Anstea is the head of all this work; and 
while she was so anxious that they should know all that would 
help them on in life, temporally, she had the greatest concern in 
the salvation of every soul; for this she labored and prayed daily: 
and, according to her faith, so it was unto her. 

I am more and more convinced that to succeed in God's work 
everywhere, one needs to be filled with the Spirit and mightiness 
of God, and especially so in India and Africa. 

Superstition and idolatry, and- infidelity, are so rampant it 
. * (317) 



318 



Autobiography of 



seems the very air one breathes is impregnated with them, Oh, 
how the dear workers all over, need constantly the fresh anoint- 
ing of the Holy Ghost, which can and does reveal the almightiness 
of Jesus to save from all unrighteousness. 

Sunday was their Communion Sunday. It was a beautiful 
sight to see so many remembering the Lord's death, till He come 
again. It was very solemn and impressive. A sight like this 
means more in India than it would in England; these are poor 
orphans redeemed from heathenism. I expect to laud and wonder 
at His grace through all eternity. Amen. 

Miss Anstea had invited me to come to Colar and visit her 
mission. So, on my way from Bombay, I stopped at Colar for a 
week. Colar was a large, native town, and Miss Anstea's mission 
covered a large area, in which she had a chapel, and a very nice, 
commodious mission house, large, comfortable apartments for the 
boys and girls, separate, and several very comfortable houses for 
missionaries, all nicely situated and well furnished. 

I held meetings in the little chapel every night. Our morning 
prayer was similar to a service; at the ringing of the bell the boys 
and girls would file in and take their seats, and we would have 
prayers before they weni to work. 

The Lord gave us great blessings enuring the week's services. 
At night the church would be crowded; large numbers of the 
heathen from the outside came in; many of them seemed to be 
deeply interested. The Lord wonderfully helped me to speak to 
them every night; and several of the children professed to be con- 
verted. 

One Sabbath morning as we were at prayers at the Mission 
House, a poor woman came and sat on the veranda, outside, with 
a beautiful baby in her arms, about three or four months old. 
When prayers were over, she was asked what she wanted. She said 
she wished to see Miss Sob. That is what the unmarried ladies are 
called in India by the natives; a married lady is called Mame Sob. 

Miss Anstea had several helpers, English persons, a man and 
his wife, and two unmarried ladies. Always after the prayers 
with the boys in the chapel in the morning, they had their family 
prayer at the Mission House. 

So, when Miss Anstea went to this woman and asked her what 
she wanted, she said that she had had nothing to eat for two days, 
and she was starving, and she wanted her to take her baby; she 



Amanda Smith. 



319 



had come a very long way from a native town; she said she had 
three other children, and had nothing for them to eat; and if she 
would give her fifty cents and keep the baby, she would go and get 
something for the other children; but she could not bear to see the 
baby starve to death before her eyes. 

It was a beautiful child, a little girl. By that time we were 
all around her. Miss Anstea questioned her in every possible way 
to find out if her story was true. 

She told her she was afraid she had taken somebody's baby 
and wanted to pass it off for her own; but at this the poor woman 
wept bitterly and declared the baby was her own, but that they 
were starving, and it was her last resort to save her baby, to bring 
it to the Mission; the others, she said, were older, and somebody 
might help them; but nobody wanted the baby. 

Miss Anstea told her there was no one there who knew any- 
thing about taking care of so young a baby, and that she herself 
knew but very little how to manage a young baby. 

As we all stood around looking and listening, my mother heart 
ached, and I would have gladly taken it myself, but I had no 
where only as the Lord gave me friends who would invite me to 
their homes for awhile, as Miss Anstea did. But we prevailed on 
Miss Anstea to take the baby. 

One of Miss Anstea's Christian girls said she would look after 
it. I think Miss Anstea offered to pay her a small sum; or some 
of the rest suggested that; another said they would milk the goat 
so the baby would have milk. I said, " I will give the woman 
the fifty cents;" but I gave her a little more than fifty cents. 

She laid the baby down on the mat. Of course, they have no 
clothes on them; they are perfectly naked. She put her hand on 
her heart and sighed, and then ran away out of the compound. 
When she got to the gate she turned and looked back; poor thing! 
she was so thin, and looked just like what she had said, that she 
was starving to death; you could see she was weak; but, oh, that 
look when she got to the gate! I shall never forget it; it was full 
of a mother's love and tenderness for her baby. My heart ached 
for her; and to save my life I could not keep back the tears. 

How often the missionary in different foreign fields comes up 
against heart rending scenes, before which they often stand help- 
less. All they can do is to weep with them that weep, and pray 
with them that don't know how to pray for themselves. 



320 



Autobiography of 



We took the baby in, and Miss Anstea adopted it, and we 
named it "Amanda Smith." 

I left on Friday. Up to that time the baby had got on very 
well, but cried a good deal, nights; there were plenty to look after 
it in the daytime, but at night everybody wanted to sleep, but the 
baby. Dear, little Amanda Smith! 

I went from Colar to Bangalore, then to Madras. I never heard 
whether the poor, little thing pulled through or not; if she did, I 
know it was hard, after the novelty had worn off with the children. 

Miss Anstea was a grand woman, and did a noble work in that 
province. How they have missed her since she has returned to 
England. She spent many years in India, and established and run 
t he missions mostly at her own personal expense. 

When she broke down, and was obliged to return to England, 
she turned the work over to Bishop Thoburn. So the work at 
Colar is still being perpetuated. 

Madras, January 7th, 1881. I spend a few days at the home of 
Brother Shaw, pastor of the Methodist Church. Miss E. and I 
visit three zenanas and speak to a very nice family of girls; read, 
and explain the Word; then I sing; and as I sing, though they do 
not understand the words, the Spirit seemed to touch their hearts, 
and they weep. May God bless them. 

Wednesday, January 12th. A meeting at eight a. m. The 
Lord was in the midst of us. A number of good testimonies, and 
a number rose for prayers, as they did also at night. Still there's 
more to follow. 

Here I saw the great juggernaut car, so well known in the 
history of sacrifices in India, whose wheels have crushed so many 
infants at the hands of their poor mothers. How my heart ached 
as I listened to the story, told by the Chief of Police. How dread- 
ful is heathen blindness. Thank God that the car of the jugger- 
naut for such sacrifice has come to belong to the things of the 
past; has been superseded by the glorious light of Christian civil- 
ization, and judicious Christian legislation. 

Tuesday, Jan. 18th. I leave this morning for Punrooty, to see 
Miss Reed. How God has kept His dear servant here, and made 
her a blessing and a succor to many! The Lord has sent her help 
from England just at this time, Miss Bloom and Miss Thurgood. 
Mrs. Fred Bowden and her dear mother came with them for a 
little visit. A beautiful company of Christian workers. 



Amanda Smith. 



321 



Wednesday, 19th. My first day at Miss Reed's. His word, 
how sweet: "Ye are all one in Christ Jesus." I give a little talk 
in the chapel this morning to the orphans who are redeemed from 
heathenism and starvation. Miss Reed took up this work at Pun- 
rooty during the year of the great famine, when hundreds per- 
ished from hunger. 

Some of the scenes of suffering in those days, as she described 
them to us, would make one grow faint. 

Saturday, 22d. Arrived at Bangalore late in the afternoon. 
Stopped with Brother Carter, pastor of the Methodist Church. 

Tuesday, 25th. Oh. Lord, revive Thy work. A blessed time 
at family prayer. I go with Brother Carter and make some pas- 
toral calls among the people. At night we have a good meeting, 
a crowded church. 

But the good Plymouth brethren were much disturbed, 
because I was a woman, and Paul had said, "Let your women 
keep silence in the churches." So they had nice articles in the 
daily papers; then they wrote me kind letters, and bombarded me 
with Scriptural texts against women preaching; pointed out some 
they wished me to preach from. I never argue with anybody — 
just say my say and go on. But one night I said I would speak on 
this subject as I understood it. Oh, what a stir it made. The 
church was packed and crowded. After I had sung, I read out 
my text: " Let your 1 men ' keep silence in the church," quoting 
the chapter and verse (1 Cor., 14: 28) where Paul was giving direc- 
tions so as not to have confusion — one to speak at a time, while 
the others listened. And then one was to interpret, and if there 
was no interpreter, they should keep silence in the church. So I 
went on with my version of it. We had an excellent meeting, and 
the newspaper articles stopped, and the letters stopped, and I went 
on till I got through. 

I have wondered what has become of the good Plymouth 
brethren in India since the Salvation Army lassies have been so 
owned and blessed of God. Their work has told more practically 
on the strongholds of heathenism than all that holy conservatism 
would have brought to bear in a thousand years. 

Oh, that the Holy Ghost may be poured out mightily! Then 
shall the prophecy of Joel be fulfilled. For are we not living in 
the last days of this wonderful dispensation of the Holy Ghost? 

Sunday, Feb. 6th. A blessed Sabbath morning. My last at 



322 



Autobiography of 



Bangalore. After a good day, I spend the night at Major Orton's. 
Praise the Lord for a good rest. 

Monday, 7th. The word of the Lord this morning is, " Behold, 
I set before you an open door." Amen. In the afternoon I take a 
drawing room meeting at Mrs. Orton's. The Lord was with us, 
and gave me great liberty in speaking. 

Wednesday, 16th. I leave Dr. Jewett's this morning for Ran- 
goon. Very sick, but peaceful. Praise the Lord. 

Saturday, 26th. We get in at three in the afternoon. As I 
look I see a boat nearing us, with three men in it — Brother Rob- 
inson and some others. Brother Robinson takes me to his nice 
home. I was entertained there for several weeks. God bless him 
and Sister Robinson. 

Wednesday, March 16th. Leave Rangoon to-day on the 
steamer for Maulmain. Kindly received by Mr. Norris and Miss 
Barrows, Baptist missionaries Hold my first meeting at the Bap- 
tist Church this evening at seven-thirty. It is a new thing in the 
Baptist Church for a woman to speak. We had a large company 
out. 

After Mr. Norris had spoken to them, he introduced me. The 
Lord helped me to sing and talk. On Sunday we commenced 
meetings again, and went on for a week. The people came from 
far and near. The Lord was with us and blessed us. 

Friday, 25th. Miss Barrows and I leave to-night for Amherst, 
in the boat. It is slow, but rather pleasant and cool going down 
the river. Get to Amherst at five a. m. ; go ashore at six. A fine, 
large mission house, roomy and pleasant all about. Oh, Lord, I 
will praise Thee; Thou hast dealt so bountifully with me. How 
beautiful this place, and the quiet is so restful. 

Sunday, 27th. Go to the Burmese service in the Baptist 
Church. A native minister preaches. At five p. m. the Lord 
helped me to speak to the people. 

Wednesday, 29th. We leave this quiet place for Maulmain. 
We make our last visit to the grave of Mrs. Judson, hear the story 
of her life, and I breathe a prayer to the Father for His Spirit 
more fully in my own heart, as these words come to me: " Let me 
die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like hers." 

March 30th. Get to Maulmain in time for a meeting for 
women, and speak at night. Called to see several of the old Chris- 
tians. One old man was baptized by Dr. Judson. What a grand 



Amanda Smith. 



323 



work this mission has done for this part of Bnrmah. How I 
admire those grand heroes of missions in the days when it cost 
more and meant more than it does now. Surely, " Their works do 
follow them." Amen. 

Rangoon, British Burmah, April 4, 1881. "Praise God, from 
Whom all blessing's flow." This has been a precious day. Dear 
Mrs. Boyd sent her carriage for me, and I went and spent a few 
hours with dear Mrs. Bennett and Miss Watson, Baptist mission- 
aries. The Lord helped me as I told them of His dealings with 
me, and how He had sanctified my soul. The Lord gave light, 
and when I arose to go, dear Mrs. Bennett said, taking my hands 
in hers, "Now, I want to say to you that this has been the hap- 
piest hour I have spent for years, and Avhen I think that the Lord 
has raised you up and sent you here to teach me of these wonder- 
ful things of God, I praise Him. Now, I do trust He will bless 
you and keep you." 

And then opening the door of a little closet near her, she 
handed me a donation to help me, as she said, in God's work, and 
regretted she had no more by her. 

This good woman of God has given her life to the heathen in 
India. She has been abundant in labors for more than forty years. 
And now her eyesight has failed her, and also her physical health, 
and she is laid aside. And no doubt it is a great trial, for her life 
has been such an active one. But, thank God, she is finding His 
grace sufficient for her. 

One of the first things I was struck with was the pagoda, or 
Burmese temple. You can see its dome for two miles away, as 
you look off, before you get into harbor. The streets of Rangoon 
are wide and rectangular, like those of Philadelphia, and the 
shade trees over the city are very graceful. 

After being in Burmah a few days I wanted to visit this great 
temple. So I started, in company with some friends, and after 
walking some distance from Brother Robinson's house, we came 
to what I suppose would be called the park. There was an ascent 
of about seventy-five feet up a series of steps into the pagoda; a 
gentle ascent, not tiresome. On either side of the way were devo- 
tees at prayers, or beggars waiting for their rice; or booths where 
you could buy false pearls, imitation diamonds, beads, packages of 
gold leaf, flowers and cakes. The trinkets -and flowers are given 
as offerings to Buddha; the gold leaf was sold for acts of piety. 



324 



Autobiography of 



Oh, how horrid this all seemed to me. I looked at the sad 
expression on the faces of the poor women devotees, and then I 
thought that they would go on, and live and die, and never know 
that Jesus died that they might live and have life and happiness 
in Him. 

Inside of this park where the pagoda stands, are thousands of 
gods, of all sizes. I thought I would count them, and when I got 
up to a hundred of those that were not broken, I quit. And then 
to think of the many, many years that the religion of Buddha and 
Brahma has gone on, and holds such sway yet. To me this is 
among the incomprehensibles. 

The Burmese ladies walk about in the street; their dress is 
very pretty; a very handsome figured cloth, almost always silk, 
and just wrapped about the waist and tucked in at the side. They 
do not fasten them with pins and hooks and buttons, as we do, and 
yet they look very neat. 

You never see a Burmese woman with her hair uncombed; 
but they use no hairpins; how they put it up I don't know; but it 
is as straight, every hair, as it can be. It is done like the Chinese 
women do their hair. 

They are very shrewd business women. I saw them unload- 
ing wood and marketing, just like men; and in any kind of busi- 
ness you will see Burmese women sharp and active. 

I was so amused to see the Chinese and Burmese carpenters. 
I watched them one day as they were building a house, and there 
would be a half-dozen men, and they would be sitting down using 
their planes, holding the board with their toes. They have some 
very large and fine buildings there. 

Their funerals are something like the Hindoos'. A big man 
had died; I heard a great sound of music, such as they have there; 
I can't describe it; it couldn't be described by music that we hear 
here; tin-pans and tambourines, and something like the noise that 
a stove pipe, or something of that kind would make. Oh, it was 
a jingle. Mrs. Robinson called me to look out at it; it was on the 
main street of the town, and it was a large funeral. Dozens of 
men would go before the hearse and lay down cloth; the hearse 
would drive over this cloth; and so they went on, the music fol- 
lowing this procession. 

When a poor coolie man di^s they carry him around till he 
becomes so offensive that I was told sometimes the authorities 




Native Christian Family, India. 



Amanda Smith. 



325 



have to interfere. They give them all the chance they can to 
come to. But, poor things! they are dead, three times dead; 
plucked up by the roots. 

Brother Robinson, pastor of the Methodist Church, has done 
a good work in Burmah, and his influence has been felt. He was 
much thought of by all the other denominations. 

I was given a sketch of the Burmese religion. One of the 
strong points in their religion is the transmigration of the soul. 
Guadama was the last great man born. He was born six hundred 
and twenty-five years before Christ, and lived in this world about 
eighty years. He was the son of Thokedaucareh, king of Burmah. 
He had previously lived in four hundred million worlds, and had 
passed through innumerable conditions of each. He had been 
almost every son of worm, fly, fowl, fish or animal, and almost 
every grade of human life. At length he was born, son of tne 
above-named king. 

The moment he was born he jumped upon his feet, and spread- 
ing out his arms, exclaimed. " Now I am the noblest of men. This 
is the last time I shall ever be born. " 

His ears were so beautifully long they hung on his shoulders. 
His height was nine cubits. When grown up, his hands reached 
to his knees; his fingers were of equal length, and with his tongue 
he could touch the end of his nose! 

The only sacred books of the Buddhists are the laws and say- 
ings of Guadama. 

When this was told me, and explained in points that I could 
not pretend to give, it seemed incredible; and yet, when one is 
there, and mingles much with the people, one can see how tena- 
ciously they hold to just that superstitious belief. Oh, how dark- 
ness has covered the land, and gross darkness the people. 

Among other interests in Burmah I had hoped to distribute 
about eleven Bibles among those who wanted them. I knew God 
would bless His own Word. But when I got to Calcutta, where I 
hoped to be able to get the Bibles, as I could not get them at Bur- 
mah, I found that Bibles in the Burmese language were very large, 
and very expensive; so that I was only able to send one, to a very 
interesting case, a Burmese man, with whom I think the Spirit of 
the Lord was working, and he was very anxious for a Bible. 

How much good anyone with a missionary spirit could do here 
in Burmah, or India, and especially if he or she had an aptness in 
acquiring the language. 



326 



Autobiography oi* 



I had wished that my own daughter would have such a desire 
to do something for her fellowmen. I have prayed and asked the 
Lord to thus incline her heart, if He would have her. I have edu- 
cated her, and done all I could, as far as I was able, to prepare her 
for a useful life; and now I leave it with her and her God. He 
knows my heart. I long to have her do what I know she could do 
if she was only fully consecrated to God. I would not have her 
come to this country without a full and entire consecration. And 
in her own land I fear she will do but little without it, like so 
many others. When I think of what God has done for me, and 
how He has led me since I gave myself fully to Him, I am encour- 
aged to praise Him for all that has passed, and trust Him to guide 
my child that she may work for Him. Amen. 

At eight o'clock one night I held a meeting in the Methodist 
Church for colored men especially, as there are a number in Bur- 
mah, and Rev. Mr. Robinson, who is pastor of the Methodist 
Church, was very much interested in these men. Several of them 
had families; and he had tried to get them to come to church. 

Being an American, he seemed to sympathize with them, and 
to know how they felt in that country where customs are so differ- 
ent from what they are in the United States. So he said while I 
was there he thought it would be nice to call them together and 
have me talk to them, which I was very glad to do. 

There was a nice company of these men gathered; some were 
from the West Indies, some from the west coast of Africa, and 
some from Boston, Philadelphia, and Baltimore. One man from 
the West Indies had been in Burmah for twenty years. 

They were all men of average intelligence, clean, well-dressed, 
and sober; there were but three men in the company who acted a 
little as though they were under the influence of strong drink; one 
of these was from Boston, and his name was John Gibbs. He had 
been in Burmah sixteen years; another was a Mr. Jordan, a man 
of good position, a stevedore; he had been here sixteen years, also; 
and another, a fine looking young man from Baltimore, by the 
name of Jenkins. 

There were about twenty of these men in all. They sang, 
just like colored people can sing. I spoke to them from the fifty- 
fifth chapter of Isaiah. I dwelt mostly on the words, "Let the 
wicked forsake his ways, and the unrighteous man his thoughts." 
The Lord helped me, and His Spirit was present. 



Amanda Smith. 



327 



I asked before I began who amongst them was converted. 
Only one man answered; he was a grand, old man. He had walked 
m the light of full salvation, and followed the sea, for fifteen 
years. 

After I had got through speaking I asked him to pray; he did: 
and how the Lord helped him! He said he had been in Burmah 
twenty-five years. His son was with him; a nice young lad; may 
God save him! When the prayer was over, I said, " Is there any- 
thing you would like to sing? " 

"Yes," said one young man, from the west coast of Africa, 
and who had been here only three days, ''Sing such a number.'' 

I found it; it was, " Stand up for Jesus, Christians, stand." 
As soon as it was announced they all seemed to know it, and they 
sang it well. After they were seated I talked to them a while. 1 
said, " Xow, who of you would like to have us pray for you? Hold 
up your hand. " 

And six or seven said, " Pray for me." Then Brother Robin- 
son, the pastor of the church, spoke to them. Then after another 
season of prayer, I said, ''What shall we sing to close?" when 
young Gibbs, from Boston, said, "Please sing 'God our help in 
ages past/ " 

He started it, and they sang it as if they knew how. Oh, it 
was good. How I have prayed that God would get glory out of 
this meeting to Himself, and save those men. Amen. 

In talking I told them I believed that God meant they should 
live in a heathen land as Christians, and as colored men they 
should show the heathen with whom they came in contact that 
their God, whom they are taught to believe, is able to save them 
out here, as well as at home. 

We arranged to have them come together on Wednesday even- 
ing for a little tea meeting. May God help us. Would to God 
that He would anoint some one who would work his way to this 
land, rather than not to come at all, and see after the flock here 
that stray and wonder and have no shepherd. I saw this need in 
Liverpool, England; and also in Bombay and Calcutta 

These were colored men; my own people. Some of them had 
left good, Christian homes, and started out Christians themselves. 
But they get into these ports, and there are no colored churches or 
missions to go to, and they feel lonely, and ofter give up all hope 
in Christ. 



328 



Autobiography of 



How my heart has ached for them. How I wish that my 
people in America might feel that they had a mission in this, 
looking after these poor men that brave the stormy sea. I wish 
they could think and feel about it, and put their thoughts and feel- 
ings in action, as the white people do; for in every port there is work 
done among white sailors; and if any men deserve to be looked 
after, and comforted, and helped, and cheered, it is these brave 
men, white and black. 

I hardly ever hear the wind blow at night that my heart does 
not breathe a prayer to God for sailors. How many young men, 
and old ones, too, leave their homes converted, and many times get 
through the voyage all right; but they have no place to go to but 
these sailors' boarding houses, and they are thrown in with all 
sorts of sin and wickedness, and they finally drop into those ways. 

How my heart has ached for them as I have seen them in Lon- 
don and Liverpool; they could go to church and be better treated 
there than in the white churches at home; but the old feeling of 
prejudice follows them, and they seldom venture to church. If 
there were a church or place of worship where they knew their own 
people were assembled, they would feel free to go, I thin^. That 
is why I think our ministers at home should take this into consid- 
eration. 

a good many of our American men, when they get to England, 
or India, or Burmah, or any other country, if they stay, feel they 
must get a wife, of whatever place they are in; if in England, an 
English wife; if in Burmah, a Burmese wife, and so on; and, in so 
many of these instances, when these sailors do marry, whether it 
is a white woman in England, or whether in Burmah, or anywhere 
else, it is generally somebody that likes whisky; and that is the 
sad part of it. 

In Burmah it seemed that these men were better off than the 
most that one meets on foreign shores; some of them were engineers 
on railways, some conductors, some in government service, and 
they all had good positions, and made money. Some of them Lad 
nice families of children; but their wives didn't go to church, and 
their children didn't go to Sabbath School; so they generally were 
a hindrance to their husbands, instead of a help, in that respect. 

One has no idea of what these things mean, unless they aiv 
just where they can see and know it. 

The Lord blessed me very greatly in Burmah. The Baptists 



Amanda Smith. 



329 



were very kind, and I held meetings in their several churches. At 
one church, where a Mr. Morris was pastor, we had a week's ser- 
vices, and the Lord gave us great blessing in the work. The Bap- 
tist missionaries in Burmah have done, and are doing, a grand 
work. I stayed at the Mission House, with a Miss Barrows. It 
was there I heard more of the great Dr. Judson, and Dr. Gary, 
those noble pioneer missionaries, than I had ever known before. I 
was sitting by Mrs. Judson's grave, and looking upon it, as Miss 
Barrows told me some of the story of her life, and, for a relic, I 
took a very smooth pebble that lay on the head of that noble 
woman's grave. And I thought of the blessed Word, "He that 
goeth forth weeping and bearing precious seed, shall doubtless 
return again, bringing his sheaves with him." 

Wednesday, April 6th. We leave to-day by steamer, for Cal- 
cutta. 

Monday, April 11th. Arrive at Calcutta. Thank God. Dr. 
Thoburn and Dr. Stone come off for us. Get home and have a 
little rest, for which we are very grateful. I shall never forget 
the Christian kindness of this blessed man of God. I spent so 
many pleasant days in his comfortable home. What a blessing 
God has made him to the church, and to the thousands all over 
India, and in the United States as well. 

To-night at six, I spoke to the baubaus, in the public square. 
God, I believe, blessed His Word. We had an after meeting, and 
several English soldiers came forward and sought the Lord. 

It is wonderful to hear Dr. Thoburn preach a sermon in 
English, and turn right away without saying so, and preach the 
same sermon, word for word, with energy and power, in three 
other different languages, according to the company gathered — 
Hindustanee, Bengalee, and Maratee — preaching the wonderful 
story of Jesus to the great multitudes that gather. God bless him. 

Sunday, 17th. Easter Sunday. Somehow I always have a 
peculiar love for this day. It is the Christian's victory day. For, 
if Christ b3 not risen, then have the people heard in vain, and our 
preaching is vain. But, glory to God, He is risen. 

" The rising God forsakes the tomb; 
In vain the tomb forbids Him rise; 
Cherubic legions guard Him home, 
And shout Him welcome to the skies." 

Hallelujah! 



330 



Autobiography of Amanda Smith. 



Wednesday, 20th. I go with Dr. Stone to Hastings. A good 
temperance meeting. Then with Dr. Thoburn and some others, 
breakfast with Miss Hood, at the Presbyterian Mission School. 
How very kin<l they have all been to me. God bless them. 

Friday, 22nd. Mrs. Meyers and I go to do a little shopping. I 
need some things, as I am getting ready to leave for England, and 
how wonderfully God has supplied my temporal needs. 

Sunday, May 8th. My last Sunday in Calcutta. In the morn- 
ing I speak at Dr. Thoburn's Church, and at night in Carson's 
Theatre. This was my first time in a theatre, but God helped me 
to speak for Him that night, and I trust good was done. 

Saturday, May 21st. Leave at half-past five for the steamer. 

Sunday, 22nd. We are out on the ocean and all sick. 

Wednesday, June 15th. We enter the English channel this 
morning; not too hot and not too cold. 

Thursday, 16th, 1881. Praise God, we arrive all safe. God 
has answered prayer for the sick child that was on board, so it is 
better. My dear friends, Mr. and Mrs. Stavely, meet me at the 
landing and give me a hearty welcome. Amen. 



CHAPTER XXV. 



AFRICA — INCIDENTS OF THE VOYAGE — MONROVIA — FIRST FOURTH 
OF JULY THERE — A SCHOOL FOR BOYS — CAPE P ALMAS — 
BASSA — TEMPERANCE "WORK — THOMAS ANDERSON. 

I arrived in Monrovia on the 18th of January, 1882. I left 
Liverpool on the 31st of December, 1881. On the 7th of January, 
1882, 1 arrived at Madeira; spent a few hours with Mr. Wm, G. 
Smart, of the British and Foreign Bible Society. He is a mission- 
ary to the sailors. He came on board our steamer. I was intro- 
duced, and, after he had had some conversation with the sailors, 
he asked me if I would like to go ashore. I told him I would, and 
when he was ready he called for his boat, and away we went. 

We had a little stroll through the very primitive old town, to 
the post office, then to Mr. Smart's house. He showed me some 
repairing they had already done, and a large place was then under 
repair for a school and sailors' reading room. Formerly it had 
been a store-house for spirits. When he told me of the change I 
was glad; and sang as I stood in the street, "Praise God, from 
whom all blessings flow." 

Then we went into the house. Mrs. Smart was ill in bed; but, 
oh, such a sweet, earnest, out-and-out Christian, one don't often 
meet in a foreign land. T spent three hours with them, and had 
an elegant dinner, and sang and prayed. 

Madeira is almost all Roman Catholic. The window of the 
priest's house looks right into Mr. Smart's sitting room. His win- 
dows are often hoisted mornings and evenings when they have 
family worship, and they say the priest is not bigoted, and they 
often see him listening to the songs and prayers. May the Lord 
mightily awaken him! Amen! 

About eight o'clock the boat took me to the steamer again, 
and I was much refreshed and encouraged on my way. 

(331) 



332 



Autobiography of 



On Monday, New Year's Day, we were at Grand Canary. A 
very pretty looking place from the ship. Here we got vegetables. 
This is the home of all the canaries in the world, I am told. 

The captain and some of the officers and passengers went 
ashore. It was a magnificent, moonlight night. The captain 
asked me to join the party, but I declined; I quite preferred quiet 
and the lovely moonlight. After a few hours the whistle blew, 
the anchor lifted, and we were off. Oh, this narrow bunk, and 
this dreadful rolling! I shall be so glad when I am through. 

The next stop is at Sierra Leone. And now three days to Mon- 
rovia. This is a very busy looking place. A great many come on 
board to get work. They are called coolies. Some of them opened 
my trunks and helped themselves. There was a white Wesleyan 
minister that came on board who was very kind, and as we were 
there for a day, I would like to have gone ashore. I asked him 
about the prosperity of the work and the churches. He didn't 
seem to speak very favorably. He said that the colored mission- 
aries were not men that could be depended upon to advance and 
develop the work as one might suppose. 

At this I felt quite indignant, and thought it was because he 
was a white man, and simply said that about colored men. But 
after I had been there awhile, and got to understand things better, 
I quite agreed with what the missionary told me on my first arrival 
on those shores. 

The captain and purser were very kind. They were greatly 
annoyed to think that my trunks had been interfered with. They 
stopped at Sierra Leone to take on coal. My largest trunk was 
down in the hold, where all the large trunks were, and these 
coolies were loading coal all day, and so were down in the hold a 
good deal, where the trunks were. 

The first I knew of it was, I was up on deck, and as I went to 
look over on the lower deck, just at the side of the ship, where the 
steps go down, I saw one of the officers have a pair of shoes in his 
hand, and I tnought they looked like my shoes; but I knew my 
shoes were in the trunk. Then I thought somebody had come on 
to sell things, as they did. All at once I heard a great outcry of 
" Thief, thief, thief!" And then I saw them bringing a man 
along from aft; a nice looking fellow, tall and clean looking; and 
he was declaring to all that was above and below that he had not 
touched anything, and that he was not the thief. 



Amanda Smith. 



333 



I felt so bad for him. The head man had hold of him, declar- 
ing he did have the things, and he declaring he did not. Then I 
thought the head man, being a black man. too. was very hard. 
But he let him go, and the storm was lulled for awhile. Just then 
some one said in a low tone, " Look under his shirt." So the head 
man jumped at him and lifted his shirt (which was outside his 
pants), and there, if that fellow didn't have twelve yards of flannel 
wrapped all about his body! 

Then I said to the man below. u Maybe those are my shoes.'' 

" You had better come down." he said. " and see." 

So I did; I put my foot in the shoe, and sure enough, it was 
my shoe. 

" There," I said, " my trunk has been opened." 

So I had them bring it up: the catch in the lock had been 
broken, then it had been filled up with pitch, so it would stick; it 
looked as though it had not been touched: but there they set it on 
the deck, and all stood around while I went down into it. The 
tray had been carefully lifted out, and just what they wanted had 
been picked out. and they were gone. Some of the things I got. 
Others, and among them some very choice ones. I never got. But 
the Lord kept my heart very quiet; the captain and officers looked 
perfectly astounded because I didn't rave. The captain said 
to me: 

"Mrs. Smith. I don't see how you do keep your temper." 

'•Well." I said, ''Captain. I am sorry to lose the things, and if 
losing my temper and getting in a rage would bring them back, 
you would see me cut a shine." 

"Well," he said, "I don't understand it, Mrs. Smith; it is 
too bad. " 

They did everything they could for me, and wanted me to go 
ahsore and give my affidavit against the man. But they had 
enough, because there was another passenger whose trunk had 
been opened, where the flannel, and soap, and quinine, and. all 
these things had been taken out: so I thought I got on very well, 
and' I told him that I wouldn't go. 



\J Wednesday morning, Jan. 18th. Monrovia. We are in the 
harbor. The beautiful palm trees in sight. We are anchored. 
Breakfast at nine. Andjnow_hej^?i^^ Glad to see her. 



We are soon off for the shore. The tide is very high, and 
crossing the bar, just before we get inside, I sing the Doxology 





334 



Autobiography of 



and the rest join in the chorus. Five minutes more and the 
kroomen, being attracted by our singing and not paying attention, 
let a great wave break over us and we were wet through. I was 
glad we sang before we got wet, for not one of us sang afterward! 

There was one white man in our boat, a German, a Mr. Amyre. 
and Miss Sharp and myself. I went to her house at the Seminary 
and stayed three weeks and three days. Then the Lord led me 
forth. Ameja. 

My first Sabbath I was asked by the pastor of the Methodist 
Church, Rev. Charles Pitman, to take the service. I did so, and 
spoke to a crowded house, and the Lord wonderfully helped me; 
and the following Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday nights I 
was asked to continue, and did so, and some, I trust, were saved. 

Friday, Jan. 20th. I took my first boat ride, up the St. Paul 
river to the Muehlenberg Mission, Rev. David Day, of the Lutheran 
Church. I had a delightful time at Brother Day's. 

Sunday, 22d. Communion. I speak three times, to all that 
can be packed in the little chapel. The afternoon was for the 
children, as they had been crowded out in the morning, but the 
big folks crowded in after the children were seated. So we had a 
good time. Praise the Lord. 

Monday, 23d. I leave for New Georgia, Rev. Mr. Hargrave's 
appointment. I speak in the Baptist Church to a large company. 

Tuesday, 24th. I leave this morning for Monrovia. Go to Dr. 
Stanford's for dinner. Call and see Dr. Garnet in the evening. 

Friday, 27th. Call to see President Payne. And on Monday 
I saw him for the last time on earth. I was taken down Tuesday 
night with fever, and it was ten days before I was able to go out 
again. On Monday night, the 30th, Mr. Payne died. 
, / Tuesday, Feb. 7th. I leave Miss Sharp's, and am invited to 
Mrs. Payne's, a home I feel God Himself has given me. Oh, how 
I do praise Him! I am comfortable, and have every care. 

My first " Fourth of July " in Monrovia, Africa, must not pass 
without a brief notice, only they celebrate the 28th instead of the 
1th, as we do in America. A tirade was given on that day by the 
Hon. R. H. W. Johnson, against the churches. He said: 

" Liberia should be independent in her religions as well as in 
her politics. But what does the foreign church bring us? They 
don't come with the pure Word of God. They come with some 
old traditions about the wickedness of Nimrod, and other old 



Amanda Smith. 



335 



customs handed down by the Jews, who relegate to hell everybody 
but themselves. They come with some old pro-slavery traditions 
that assign all negroes to inferiority and eternal perdition. They 
come with all kinds of 'isms,' and 'schisms,' and doctrines, and 
disputes, and contentions, of more than fifteen hundred years' 
standing; contentions that have caused rivers of blood to be poured 
out on the earth; contentions and doctrines which not only the 
people of Liberia do not understand, but which have never been 
understood by those who bring them to us. You may be sure 
that any religion that teaches the inferiority of the negro never 
came from heaven." 

This was the first big speech that I had heard, and I was 
astonished beyond measure. The church was filled with the best 
people of the capital and of the republic, ladies and gentlemen. 

This address was received with enthusiasm and delight. And 
yet every one of them knew that no such religion had ever been 
taught in Liberia. But these are some of the things you meet on 
your first arrival. I think I discovered a change before I left, and 
trust it is still growing better. 

While here, I saw a great need among the native boys that 
lived in Liberian families. Some of them go to Sunday School, 
but many, like in this country, did not go at all. I thought if I had 
a place of my own I might do something for them. I saw how 
they could be gathered in for an hour or two after the regular 
Sabbath School was over. I thought they might be helped a little. 
They would gather together and go in numbers to walk about as 
they would say, or go to Krootown, where they would not be any 
better for so doing. I saw this, Sabbath after Sabbath. 

I thought if I had the money I might get some place. There 
were no houses to let there as here. There was an old seminary 
building and it was much out of repair, but still there were sev- 
eral rooms in it that could be used if they could be cleaned. 
There was a large garden that was all grown up with weeds. 

All this would take money to clear up. I did not have it; sc 
I began to pray the Lord to put it in the heart of some of my 
friends at home to send me money. I had been around in America 
to so many camp meetings and in different churches, and so many 
different parts of the country, east, west, north and south, and 
everybody seemed to know Amanda Smith, so many had helped 
me often, while there, and they would remember me now in Africa, 
and so help me. 



336 



Autobiography of 



Up to this time no one had sent me any money from home, 
but God wanted to teach me a lesson that I must needs learn, so 
now on good faith I began to pray as I had always done, for I never 
tell people my need; I always make my needs known directly to 
God. I prayed the Lord to put it into the hearts of some of my 
friends. I would think of one in New York, then another in 
Philadelphia, another in Boston, another in Ohio, and so I prayed 
the Lord would influence the hearts of these to send me the needed 
money for this work. 

Week after week passed on and no money came. I still prayed 
on; I knew in so many hundreds of necessities where God had 
heard my prayer for temporal things. I told him He knew I was 
not asking for myself, I had a comfortable home with dear Sister 
Patsey Payne, of precious memory. 

While in her home I was well nursed and cared for when I 
was sick with fever. My own mother and sister and brother could 
not have been kinder to me than Sister Payne and her daughter 
Miss Clavender, and her dear brother, B. Y. Payne. I feel to say 
as one of old: "Let my right hand forget her cunning and my 
tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth," if I ever forget the loving 
kindness shown to me in their home while in Monrovia. But for 
the care I had while passing through the fever T believe I should 
have been dead and in my grave to-day. How dear Miss C. 
watched over me and nursed me. I saw she was worn and weary 
and I got a friend to come in and stay with me one night. When 
I told Miss C. she said: 

"No, auntie (for they all called me Auntie Smith), I would 
rather watch myself; I will not sleep, though I know you have 
some one with you." 

She was a splendid nurse. One might have thought she had 
been trained in some American institution; but I insisted on having 
this person come in, so she came in. It was not long till the poor 
thing fell asleep. I was nervous and restless, so asked her for 
something, and dear Miss C. came and handed what I wanted, and 
said Mrs. T. is asleep. 

She did not go out of my room all night, so after that I said, 
" Well, if you are not going to lie down there is no use in my hav- 
ing Mrs. T. come in." 

She was delighted, and said I told you not to do it. I thank 
God because of good and proper care. Though my attacks of fever 



Miss C. Paine, Miss Corrix Paine. 

Mr. B. Y. Paixe. Mrs. Patsy Paixe. 



Amanda Smith. 



were severe they did not keep me down long, two weeks would be 
the longest. As soon as I was able I would be at my work holding 
meetings, and out at night, which is not the wisest and best thing 
for a new-comer going through acclimating fever. 

Again to my subject. I still prayed for the money, then 
waited, weeks went on, steamers came and went, letters came, but 
no money. Sabbath after Sabbath passed on; there were these 
native boys I wanted to help, and still it did not come, so one day 
I went to the Lord and asked Him what it meant, that He knew 
what I wanted to do for these poor native boys, and He seemed to 
say to me: 

" You are not trusting in Me, you are trusting in America; 
you are looking to America for help more than to Me." 

I saw it in a moment. Yes, it was true, I really was leaning 
on America. 

"Lord," I said "forgive me and help me to give up every 
hope in America and trust in Thee the living God; " and I let go 
and rose, praising the Lord for showing me my mistake. 

About two weeks after this a letter from my good and very 
faithful friend, Mrs. Margaret Davis, of Ireland, whom God hath 
raised up to help me as surely as He ever raised up a prophet in 
Israel. Oh, what that Christian lady did for me while in Africa 
tongue can never tell, eternity alone has the record. 

In her letter was a five pound note; so God, in His own way, 
began to help me. Then shortly after this another token of 
another answer to prayer, a friend in India sent me five pounds; 
then after I had learned my lesson well a letter from the Western 
Christian Advocate from America came with five dollars in it, and 
several times from the same source came small sums; then some 
friends from Mrs. Carrie Judd's home, in Rochester, sent me a 
small sum; then some friends sent me some through Mr. Richard 
Grant. 

So God showed me when I had learned to let goof human help 
and expectation, and trust in Him alone, that He could take care 
of me without America if He wanted to, for He had sent me to 
Africa Himself and I must trust Him to see me through. 

I went to Brother Cooper, who then had the old seminary * 
building in charge to look after, and got permission to use one of 
the rooms. I got a man to whitewash it and have the rear and 
garden cleaned of weeds, and the brush burned, then m} T self and 



338 



Autobiography of 



one or two whom I could get, washed the windows and scrubbed 
the floors and I covered the chairs with some of the cloth that 
Mrs. Davis had sent me in a box, and put curtains to the windows 
and had some glass put in, and after days of hard work I got 
things in order. 

Mrs. Davis had sent me in a box a number of cards and Scrip- 
ture texts. Whenever she sent me a box it seemed she thought 
about everything. If I had sent an order myself I could not have 
been more explicit and thoughtful of what I really needed than 
was Mrs. Davis. So I had th^se nice mottoes for the wall. Oh, it 
did make it look cozy and nice. Different friends would come in 
and greatly admire them. 

My first meeting was held on Friday afternoon, it was a Bible 
reading, a number of persons came out. Then on Sunday morn- 
ing at six a. m., we held our band meeting that I had reorganized 
months before, and Sister Payne, my hostess, was appointed 
leader. 

In a week or two after this a vessel came in — the bark "Mon- 
rovia," and the Librarian Conference was to be held at Bassa. I 
wanted to go to the Conference, so this was my only chance. I took 
this opportunity, and, though it would bring me there a week in 
advance, it was better to go then, than not to go at all; I want to 
stay three weeks, so I thought; when I got there the Lord seemed 
to direct me to go to Cape Palmas. I had been trying to get to 
Cape Palmas for two years, but was hindered time after time, so I 
gave up all hopes of going. 

Now, when I got to Bassa, and found that Bishop Taylor was 
going, after the Conference, direct to Cape Palmas, I said to him, 
"Bishop, I have been trying so hard to get to Cape Palmas, and I 
heard you were going direct from the Conference to Monrovia." 

" No/' he said, " I am going straight on to Cape Palmas." 

"Well," I said, "now, as I have been trying so hard to get 
there, it seems that this is my chance, what do you think about it, 
Bishop?" 

"Well, Amanda, I think the Lord will have you go now, and 
I am just as sure the Lord is in it as I ever was sure of anything." 

I had left my little native girl at Monrovia, so I asked Brother 
Patman if he would take Frances to his house. They lived at 
Paynesville. 

Mrs. P. was very kind to native children, and I knew it would 



Amanda Smith. 



be a good home for Frances; then, it was out of town. Brother 
Fatman at once said, "Why, yes. Sister Smith, Frances will be 
just like the other children, if you will be satisfied, we will see 
after her and do all we can for her." 

Then I was confirmed, for this was the only difficulty I had; 
when that was settled, it was all clear, so I went to Cape Palmas 
with Bishop Taylor. 

I will not stop to say now about the meeting and the first work, 
but will, later on. 

I did not get back to Monrovia again for two years and three 
months, so that ended my work that I hoped to do for the native 
boys, but the Bible readings and the Sunday morning meetings, 
Sister Payne kept up till she died; then Sister Julia Sanders, one 
of God's noble women, was appointed, and has led on the little 
band which is the- spiritual bone and sinew of the church even tc 
this day. 

I have never seen a nobler band of Christian women anywhere, 
considering what they have to contend with, many of them in 
their own homes as well as outside. They have been a lighthoust 
and source of salt to all the marshy places around about them. 

Thank God, even in Africa, there are those who have power 
to keep the banner of holiness unfurled and sing as they march:— 

" All hail reproach or sorrow, 
For Jesus leads me there." 

And these shall walk with God, for they are worthy. Amen. 

July 1st, 1882. Clay-Ashland. Just two weeks ago I came to 
Clay- Ashland, and my stopping place is on the St. Paul river, with 
Mr. Henry and Miss Martha Ricks, or '* Uncle Henry" and k4 Aunt 
Martha," as they are more accustomed to being called. They are 
both devoted Christians. 

I am very comfortable and feel quite at home with them. And 
Cousin Sarah is a jewel. God bless her. 

Rev. Mr. Richards is pastor of the Methodist Church. He 
asked me if I would take the service on Sabbath morning. I chose 
the words for the basis of my remarks, "Awake thou that sleepest 
and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light." These 
are the words the Lord seemed to impress on my mind from my 
observation of the feeling among the people, The Lord helped me 
to deliver the message and blessed the people; and there seemed to 



340 



Autobiography of 



come upon them a spirit of revival, and there was a prayer meet- 
ing appointed, and on Thursday evening I took the service again; 
then they appointed a prayer meeting for Friday afternoon; one 
seeker came forward for prayers; then there was another meeting 
appointed for Monday afternoon. On Wednesday and Thursday I 
gave some Bible readings, 

July 25th, 1882. On Thursday night the Lord was with us in 
power; the altar was crowded, and 'a number professed to have 
found peace there were some grand cases of real conversion. 
Praise the Lord. 

We went on holding three meetings a day. in the morning at 
six o'clock, in the afternoon at four, and in the evening at eight, 
until Sunday. Being just the time of the rainy season, sometimes 
we were hindered by the torrents of rain. Sunday night was one 
of those wet nights, but the people came out; there were twenty- 
six in all who professed conversion during this week of revival 
services. Several native boys, who were servants in the families, 
were converted; these, to me, were the most interesting cases. Poor 
things, how my heart went out toward them ! No one thinks much 
about them, or pays much attention to them. But it is wonderful 
when they begin to pray, to see how they will stick to it; and in 
their darkness, feeling after God, if happily they may find him. 

Sunday evening I spoke to the children at the Sabbath School, 
on the subject of temperance, with good effect, I trust. At night, 
Brother Richards preached and I gave an exhortation, and the 
Lord greatly helped us. On Thursday night 1 spoke on prayer. 
On Sunday I spoke in the Presbyterian Church. We had a good 
congregation, and the Lord helped me to talk to the people, from 
the fifteenth chapter of John: " The branch and the vine." 

Then I go to Virginia, and stop with Mrs. Fuller. I go to the 
Love Feast on Sunday morning. It was very wet and rainy, but 
we had a good meeting all day. What we need most is more of the 
Holy Ghost power. I had great liberty in speaking in the after- 
noon to a crowded house, from Romans 12. 

On Monday, Mrs. Fuller and I go to Clay-Ashland in the canoe, 
and make some calls. We go to see a poor, sick, widow woman, 
and give her a word of cheer, with prayer and song. Then to see 
Brother Capehart, and then home, to my dear Aunt Martha and 
Uncle Henry Ricks'. It is so nice to get back; and I finish a long 
letter to my friend, Mrs. McDonald, Maiden, Mass, 



Amanda Smith. 



Bassa, Lower Buchanan, W. C. A.. Feb. 8, 1883. Mr. Johnson 
asks me about a Mr. Declaybrook, who was here about two years 
ago, and said he came to raise funds for a girls' school. He 
wanted to see what the people were willing to do, and then he was 
to go back home and report, and they were to send the teachers 
out at once. 

Mr. Crusaw, who was quite able, put down his name for a 
thousand dollars, Mr. Johnson for a large amount, and many 
others. 

He went all through the county at Clay-Ashland and Arthing- 
ton, and there were many who gave the money who were afraid 
they might not have it when he came again. He represented 
himself to be a pastor of a Baptist Church somewhere in America. 

That is the way our people are humbugged. Good schools 
are so much needed, and these deceptions hinder greatly. 

I asked the Lord to give me a word about Cape Mount. I 
opened at the fifth chapter of Luke, and my eye rested on the last 
line of the tenth verse; also the tenth verse of the fourth chapter: 
"Fear not; from henceforth thou shalt catch men." And, "He 
shall give His angels charge over thee, to keep thee." 

My third Sabbath in Lower Buchanan, Bassa. Preaching in 
the morning by Rev. Mr. Briant. Sabbath School. Mr. Briant 
addresses the children. He spoke fifteen minutes, but said noth- 
ing! At half past seven I take the service — a Bible reading. 

On Monday evening I began a series of services. I spoke on 
Monday evening, and gave a Bible reading consecration; a few 
people present, but the Lord helped me to speak for Him; so we 
went on, and the interest increased each night. Wednesday night 
and Thursday night a number came forward to the altar seeking 
sanctification. Friday evening we had a Gospel Temperance 
meeting. Four signed the pledge, wmile there were two seekers 
at the altar for salvation. 

My last Sabbath. I spoke from John 17. The Lord helped 
me. The balance of the day I was ill. Lord, make me strong. 

Upper Buchanan, Feb. 23, 1883. I leave Lower Buchanan to- 
day for Upper Buchanan, Stop at Mrs. Horns'. A pleasant walk 
late in the evening. This is a beautiful place. I have a nice 
room fronting the sea, with a fine view. And this is Africa, and 
I am here! Praise God for His goodness and mercy to me. 

I expect, God willing, to walk to Congotown to-morrow to 



342 Autobiography op 

preach. God bless the dear people; and sanctify the message God 
may give me for them. The people are very kind, but the spirit- 
ual indifference among the people at Lower Buchanan is sad. Oh, 
God, awaken them! Awaken them! 

On Tuesday I visited Mrs. T.'s school. There were about 
twelve or fifteen pupils present. Oh, the lack of life! 

There is great need of good books. In this the government is 
very slack; and until we do our whole duty in this, our country is 
doomed. Education is our country's great need. There is so little 
attention paid to the education of girls; not a single high school for 
girls in the whole republic of Liberia. It is a great shame and a 
disgrace to the government. 

Upper Buchanan. I am stopping with Mrs. Rebecca Horris. 
She has a nice, large house, which has been a first-class one; but 
it has gone down greatly. 

Yesterday morning, Sabbath, I went to Brother Thomas' 
charge, a Congo village, to Church, Had a pleasant walk. Rode 
part of my way in the hammock. Spoke in the morning from 
Luke: " Have faith in God." The Lord helped me. 

In the afternoon I talked in the Sabbath School, and got fifteen 
signers to the Gospel Temperance pledge. The Superintendent of 
the Sabbath School and the local preachers and class leaders 
would not sign the pledge. Oh, what hindrances they are in the 
work. Lord, save them, or move them out of the way. 

Had a poor night's rest, but feel better this morning, thank 
God. Sister Thomas gets an early breakfast, and I start home to 
Upper Buchanan. Brother Thomas walks with me. Sister Toliver 
and Sister Marshal call, and we have a pleasant chat. The Lord 
is making a way for His people. Oh, Lord, give us the whole city! 
Send on the people the awakening spirit, the deep, awakening 
spirit of the Holy Ghost! Send it, Lord! Amen. Amen. 

Edina, Grand Bassa, West Africa. On the 12th of April, 1883, 
in the evening I spoke in the Methodist Church, on the witness of 
the Spirit. I had been much in prayer all day. 

My heart was greatly burdened for a precious soul, a Thomas 
Anderson. He was a 3 7 oung lawyer of great promise, but strong 
drink had been his ruin; so that his brightest prospects in life had 
been dimmed. But when he heard of Gospel Temperance he was 
glad, and the first week I held Bible readings he came and seemed to 
be much interested. He came also to the night services. The 



Amanda Smith. 343 

Spirit of the Lord got hold of him, and he yielded himself fully to 
God, and on the morning of April 15th he was clearly baptized by 
the Spirit. He felt the Spirit of God bearing witness with his 
spirit that he was fully accepted of God. 

It was the Friday appointed by the President as a Thanksgiv- 
ing Day; so at six o'clock in the morning we had prayer meeting, 
and the power of the Lord was present to heal backsliders and 
sanctify believers Anderson had signed the total abstinence 
pledge, and when the society was organized he was made vice- 
president; but he was not permitted to serve very long. 

With honor he delivered his first address, on April 25th, at the 
Baptist Church. He began, after addressing the congregation, by 
quoting the verse of an old familiar hymn: 

" I once was lost, but now am found 
Was blind, but now I see." 

All felt the force of his remarks, for they knew full well what 
they meant. The address was powerful; broad and comprehensive; 
he handled it as a master from two standpoints, experience and 
observation. 

His wife, who had shared all the hardships of a drunkard's 
wife, but never left him, signed the pledge with him. And though 
she was a professing Christian, yet being oppressed, and so often in 
sorrow, she had grown weary and cold in her spiritual life; but she 
gave herself anew to God. 

In a few days after this she was taken very ill; and, after suf- 
fering for ten days, she passed away to her final rest, on the 26th, 
and was buried with the honors of the newly organized Band of 
Hope Gospel Temperance Society, from the Baptist Church, on 
Friday, the 27th. 

This was a great shock to poor Anderson. He, himself, had 
not been well for weeks. But he was the teacher of the school 
there, and so kept about. He was taken to his bed about the first 
of May. After his poor wife was taken he seemed to break right 
down. They had no children, fortunately. I say fortunately, for 
of all the sad things that can happen, the worst is for a child to be 
left with the heritage of a drunken father. 

Strong drink does not only destroy the soul and body of men, 
but robs them of every comfort of life. And now this was his por- 
tion; and those who were his friends in prosperity, were not to be 



* 



344 Autobiography of 

found in time of his great need. Oh, how he suffered from want 
and neglect. I did all a stranger could do, for I had only known 
him and his wife for a short time. But I think I never saw such 
heartlessness in a Christian community in my life. My home was 
in the family of Mrs. G. Williams, almost opposite where Mr. An- 
derson lived. So I would run in and see him. 

On May third I went in the morning. He was all alone. Mrs. 
Williams sent him some breakfast by me. At night a little native 
boy was left to look after him, and that was all that stayed with 
him at night. Late in the afternoon he had a chill. He wrapped 
himself up in a blanket, as best he could, and prayed and asked 
God to show him clearly that he was fully His, and help him to 
give himself unreservedly to Him. He had longed to die and go 
to His home in Heaven, as his wife had gone, he did not want to 
stay; but for fear he might have too much of his own will in the 
matter, he asked the Lord to help him resign himself completely 
to Him. After he had prayed, he had turned over, and was med- 
itating, and this hymn came into his mind: 

" On Jordan's stormy banks I stand, 

And cast a wishful eye 
To Canaan's fair and happy land, 

Where my possessions lie." 

He said as he went on, the Lord Jesus began to manifest Him- 
self to him, and fill his soul. Wave after wave went over him. 
And when he got to the verse: 

"Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood, 
Stand dressed in living green; 
So, to the Jews, old Canaan stood, 
While Jordan rolled between," 
the Holy Ghost came to him in such power that he cried out so 
loud that the people in the street heard him and went in. I went 
in, and said to him, "Anderson, what's the matter? " 

"Oh, nothing's the matter. My Jesus has just passed by, and 
has left such a blessing. Oh, such a blessing!" 
" Do you want anything? " 

"Oh, no," he said. "Sister Smith, I don't want anything, 
Jesus is here. O, glory to His name." 

"Amen. Praise the Lord;" I said, and left him, rejoicing in 
the very joy of Heaven. 



Amanda Smith. 



345 



I went to see him every day. He was always calm, and cheer- 
ful, and trustful. I gave him Wood's book, "Purity and Matur- 
ity." He read it through twice. His heart drank it all in. I be 
lieve the baptism that the Lord gave him was the full sanctifying 
baptism of the Holy Ghost. 

On Sabbath morning, May 6th, Brother Rush preached at the 
Methodist Church. It was Communion Sunday. At the close of 
the service we took the communion over to Brother Anderson. I 
am glad to say we were able to celebrate this communion with 
unfermented wine. It was a time of great blessing: his first and 
last communion on earth. But. oh, how soon he renewed it with 
Him in the Kingdom. 

Tuesday. May 15th. I left Edina this morning for Beulah. I 
shall always regret it: for I think, just then, I got out of the Lord's 
leading, and went myself, rather than wait fur pure light from 
God. May God forgive me. 

Miss Scott, the white Episcopal missionary, had been clown to 
Edina, and had given me a very pressing invitation to come to 
Beulah at this time. But. oh, didn't I see my mistake afterwards 1 : 
I thought it was all real. But. oh. how many things one has to 
find out by personal experience that they never could find out 
otherwise. 

On Saturday, the 13th, a Mr. Lloyd came down the river, went 
to see Mr. Anderson, and told him he could cure his rheumatism; 
and though he was in so weak a condition, he had no friend to say, 
"You had better not go," and he went: it was in the rainy season, 
and. being uncomfortable and poorly clad, he got very wet, and 
cold struck in: and, instead of Mr. Lloyd's taking him into his 
house, and putting him in a comfortable bed, he was put in a 
hammock, and swima* in an open kitchen, until two o'clock Mon- 
day morning, when they took him into the house, and at seven 
o'clock, when Mr. Lloyd went to look at him, he found him dead! 

They said that all day Sunday they found him very happy, 
and that he spoke much of going home to God. And now the 
time had come, and the hard struggle of life was over. Thoma 
Anderson was not. For God had taken him. 

"Safe in the arms of Jesus, 
Safe on His gentle breast; 
There by His love o'ershaded, 
Sweetly his soul finds rest.'' 



CHAPTER XXVI. 



FORTSVILLE — TEMPERANCE MEETINGS — EVIL CUSTOMS — THOMAS 
BROWN — BALAAM — JOTTINGS FROM THE JUNK RIVER — 
BROTHER HARRIS IS SANCTIFIED. 

Hartford, Africa, July 1st, 1883. I have spent a pleasant time 
at Mr. Coy Brown's. Have gone on with two weeks' meetings. 
The Lord has given some blessing. Three have professed to find 
peace in believing on the Lord Jesus Christ. There are some five 
or six others seeking, but, oh, there is such a lack of faith on the 
part of the church. Zion travails, and comes to the birth, but 
has not power to bring forth. Lord, send us down the power they 
had at Pentecost. 

One civilized native, a young man who has been converted, 
was baptized on Sunday, the 5th. God bless Isaac Cassie, and 
make him a burning and shining light. And may his father and 
mother, who are still in heathen darkness, soon be brought to God, 
and saved by faith in Jesus Christ. 

I went from Hartford to Fortsville. I stopped with a Mr. 
Wiley Fort. After a little rest, I began some meetings; Bible read- 
ings, first, at the Methodist Church. 

It being the rainy season, the people didn't come out very well; 
and then I arranged to have them at Mr. Fort's house in the after- 
noon, and go to the church in the evening, when the rain didn't 
pour too severely. 

The meetings held were very interesting, and the Lord was 
with us. There has been some interest on the subject of temper- 
ance, and a number have signed the pledge. We hope to organize 
a society in this settlement on Wednesday night, God willing. 
May He give us His presence, and enlighten the minds of the 
people, for we are very dark on this subject. And the merchants 
are flooding the land with this accursed fire, and men and women 
are being devoured bv it. 

(346) 



Amanda Smith, 



347 



One merchant, a foreigner, a Mr. Attier, I am told, is ordering 
a hundred thousand cases of gin, so as to escape the law of high 
duties, which goes into effect in September. The law goes in for 
high duties on the importation of strong drink. Then I see how 
many ministers there are in the country who stand aloof from the 
work of temperance, and are afraid to open their mouths against 
this great Zerubabel that shall become a plain. May God put a 
hook in his jaw. Oh, Lord, work quick! For Jesus' sake, speak! 
Arrest this flood tide, and awaken the people to a sense of their 
duty. 

What a dreadful snare this trade is. Of course, the doings 
and customs are all new to me; I have never seen it in this wise 
before. Preachers and laymen all think there is nothing they can do 
but trade. Some of the men go off in the country for fifty or sixty 
or a hundred miles; there they stay for years; two, three, five and 
eight, right along. Young men, and married men; they will leave 
their wives and children. Some start towns, and buy native 
women, and have large families; this is not an uncommon occur- 
rence! 

A fine looking young man, who owns his own house, and has 
a nice wife and one child, has left everything and been away in 
the country two years. His wife stayed at the place as long as she 
could; but he sent her nothing to live on, so her parents ihad to 
take her home. He has several wives in the country, and, of 
course, he cannot support all. 

I am stopping with a lady now, whose brother, a young man, 
is in the country, and has been there over a year. Here is where 
our loss is in the perpetuation of our church. If they would try 
to teach and instruct the heathen, or teach school, or do some- 
thing to elevate, and civilize, and Christianize the poor natives, 
then it would be well. But they at once fall into all the customs 
and habits, and turn from Christianity easier than they turn the 
heathen from idolatry. 

Oh, what a blight is on our whole country because of this sin. 
We have degraded ourselves in the eyes of the heathen. And 
now the blind lead the blind. 

On Saturday a poor woman came to me in great trouble. Her 
husband had been away in the country for six months. He came 
home and brought several boys with him. After several days had 
passed he seemed very unkind and quarrelsome. Nothing was 



348 



Autobiography of 



right. She could do nothing to please him. So he got drunk and 
beat her severely, and chased her from the house with a gun. 

The secret was, he had become infatuated with a country 
wife, and his own home and wife had lost all charms for him. 

Greenville, Sinoe Co., W. C. A., January 11th, 1884. Yester- 
day was a sad day. Two of the oldest men in town died, and one 
was interred at eleven and the other at four p. m. Both were good 
men; one a member of the Methodist Church for nearly half a 
century; a class leader and trustee, and also sexton and grave dig- 
ger. His name was Thomas Brown. He emigrated to this country 
forty years ago. His life was not a life of comfort, after the style 
of the world. He had much to contend with; but the joy of the 
Lord was his strength, and he triumphed by faith, anyway! His 
last sickness, which lasted but a month, was very severe, and the 
dear old man had such few comforts; but not a murmur escaped 
his lips. A few months before he died, Brother Draper said to him: 

"Brother Brown, you are almost home." 

"Oh, yes," he said, "I shall be home directly," and he 
thanked God for the last little acts of kindness done; then he closed 
his eyes in peace, and went to God. 

My heart said, ;< Oh, let me die the death of the righteous, and 
let my last end be like theirs." 

He was a member of the Band of Hope Gospel Temperance 
Society; one'of the first to join when the work began here in Sinoe, 
in December. His membership was of short duration;, we had his 
happy " amens " to cheer us only a short time. But he stood true 
to his pledge, and the principles of total abstinence, and was a 
strong advocate. 

The other was Louis Sherman. He also was a member of the 
Gospel Temperance Society. Each leaves a large family to mourn 
his loss. 

A strange incident connected with this was, while the services 
were going on in the house over the remains of the men, the dogs, 
numbering six or seven in the different houses, howled in the most 
distressing manner; then they would cease, and begin again, as 
though they were directed by some one. 

The Band of Hope formed a line and led on, the others fol- 
lowing. At five p m., all was over, and the families returned to 
see their husbands and fathers no more till they all meet beyond 
the river. 



Amanda Smith. 



349 



I have been visiting Frances Craten for almost a week. She is 
in a dying condition, but is clinging tight to life, and has not a ray 
of light, or joy, or thanksgiving, or praise. I seem to be shut up. 
I can't get hold of Him in prayer or in song. All is blank. God 
save me in the dying hour from darkness and doubt. 

I have had much to contend with since I came to Sinoe. I 
have never had any such trials in all my travels as I have had 
here. I have never met with such deception and such planning 
to overthrow the work as I have met here. But notwithstanding 
all this, there are some good people here, and God is my friend, 
and has given me a few that are real and true, and I thank Him. 
He has delivered me out of the hands of the most subtle enemy — 
though always under the garb of real friendship — that I have 
ever met. Thank God for His wonderful and speedy deliverance: 
Now, Lord, keep me delivered, ever and always, and help me to 
watch and pray, and on Thyself rely. Amen. 

I have found a good and true friend in Mrs. Sarah Marshall; a 
srenial spirit, and a comfortable home, and plenty to eat. Not 
more than others, I deserve, yet God has given me more. " I will 
take the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord." 

On the eve of the tenth of January, at the Presbyterian Church, 
Sammy Ross, Jr., gave a very interesting address on "Stand to the 
right.' ' I see a noble man coming out of this temperance boy. 
God bless him. 

Our next meeting is expected to be held in the Episcopal 
Church. I went to see Mrs. Craten. She is very weak; but she 
has got all her business arranged satisfactorily. God helped me to 
push them up till all is settled. Now the way is clear. May God 
come in with a flood of light, and show her what she still needs to 
know. Thank God for this gain. 

Saturday, January 12th. I am not well this morning. I was 
at Mrs. Craten's late last night, and she seemed very restless, and 
as she was disturbed in mind, I sang and prayed; but she had 
no light or access to God. Oh, how she fought death to the very 
last. She never yielded one inch to God. 

She could not die in the house she lived in; she made them 
carry her to her sister's, and in five minutes after, her breath was 
snatched from her. 

She lived in the church, and lived in malice of the bitterest 
kind with her sister, her only sister, and died the same, not even 



350 



Autobiography of 



mentioning her name in her will, and without a house r ver her 
head. She bade good bye to all, and they said she went to Heaven. 
But, oh, how dark! 

January 13th. She was buried on Sabbath morning. Rev. 
Munger and Rev. Kennedy spoke over her. But, oh, that deceived 
soul, to the last deceiving, and living deceived! The Lord seemed 
to shut me up so that I had no word for her. "Oh, mistaken soul 
that dreams of Heaven and makes its empty boast! " 

I was not out all day, except to the funeral. I hope to be 
stronger by and by. God help me. Amen. 

Monday, January 14th. Praise God for His goodness and 
mercy to me. I am feeling rather weak, but call to see Mrs. Har- 
ris, and Mrs. G. Craten, and Mrs. Louis. They are all well. Then 
I take Brother Kennedy one pound, which makes up the balance 
of the eleven dollars I promised to get. There were fifty dollars 
subscribed. Some paid; I promised to pay the eleven dollars if 
no one else did. I walked all day on Monday and got six dollars, 
and waited a week and no one paid a cent; so I paid the five dol- 
lars myself. In all, I paid out of my pocket eight dollars. 

Selfishness is killing us. God, have mercy. Paying the min- 
ister is a thing hardly thought of. The church here agreed to 
give the minister two hundred dollars; in a whole year they gave 
him fifty dollars! 

This year, when he was getting ready to go to the Conference, 
he told them if they would give him fifty dollars he would give 
them the one hundred; and of that fifty on last year's salary they 
had only given thirty dollars, and eight dollars of that I gave 
myself. 

Sinoe, January 15th. Tuesday. I make bread, and write a 
ten-page letter to my friend, Mr. Estes. Oh, precious time, how 
you fly! 

Wednesday, 16th. I was very miserable and weak all day yes- 
terday and to-day, but was better in the afternoon, so that I went 
out to the temperance meeting, held at the Episcopal Church. 
We had a very interesting meeting. Sammy Ross did nobly. Mr. 
Munger, the pastor, has not signed the pledge, but we asked him 
to speak, and he gave us a good talk, just to the point, and said he 
would do all he could for the furtherance of the work, and also 
offered to give us an address next Wednesday night, I believe the 
Lord will help him. Oh, Lord, save our land. 



Amanda Smith. 



851 



Sunday, 20th. I go to early prayer meeting; a good many out. 
Then I go home and have prayers. At breakfast, word comes that 
there is to be preaching and quarterly meeting at the Baptist 
Church, Brother Huff's. I go. The distance is about a mile and 
a half. The Lord gives me strength for the day, and I go to a 
baptizing. Hear two sermons; one by Brother Roberts, at the 
church, the other at the water side, or pond. 

I did not stay to the afternoon meeting. Having a little rest, 
I walked home. The sun was very hot. I was dripping with per- 
spiration. I lay down and took a little rest, then went to church. 
Brother Draper preached. Text in Psalms, "Keep back thy ser- 
vant from presumptuous sins." 

I asked the privilege of making some remarks, and explained 
why I was not present the Sunday before (I was not well), and re- 
ported the money I had collected for Brother Kennedy, eleven dol- 
lars. I paid in all I had given. May God bless him, and me. 

Monday, 21st. Sister Draper and I go to Jamesville to-day tc 
see her niece, Miss Brown, who is sick. We have a pleasant time. 
Have a season of prayer, and read and sing. Sister Brown seems 
to enjoy it. But, oh, the coldness and death chill! No life, no 
power in prayer. Oh, God, awake the people, for Jesus sake! 

Then we called at old lady Brichandenn's. This is a dear old 
saint, and is ripening for glory. After hearing her tell of the 
Lord's dealings with her, which were marvelous, we sang a hymn, 
and then knelt down and prayed. 

The Lord met us there under the trees, and blessed us; and 
the benediction that old lady pronounced on me I shall never for- 
get. May the Lord grant this, and more, according to His sweet 
will. Amen. 

Went to Sister Kenney's. Had another song and season of 
prayer. There the Lord blessed us again. Then we returned 
home about two o'clock. After a little rest I went to Mrs. Harris' 
and took dinner, with some others. Had a pleasant time. Praise 
the Lord for the blessings He giveth. 

Tuesday, January 22nd. I am well this morning. Praise God. 
And 1 am asking for the baptism of the Holy Ghost. Oh, how I 
need it. My soul cries out for the living God. God, help me. I 
have a good deal of writing to do, and a good many other things. 
But He has said, "My grace is sufficient for you." Mrs. Marshall 
and I have a nice call from Brother and Sister Munger. 



352 



Autobiography of 



Wednesday, January 23, 1884. This is my birthday. Oh, 
how the Lord has led me, and loved me, and watched over me for 
forty-seven long years. 

"All the way my Lord has led me, 
Cheered each winding path I tread 
Gave me grace for every trial, 
Fed me with the living bread." 

I was born on the 23rd of January . 1837. My mother died 
when I was thirteen years old. 

On my first birthday in Africa I was at Greenville. In the prayer 
meeting that night I gave the history of my conversion and sancti- 
fication. The people seemed much interested. Then I called all 
to the altar for consecration. We had some prayers, then I closed 
the meeting. The hymn sung while on our knees was the old 
familiar hymn, "Forever here my rest shall be." Oh, for the 
baptism of the Holy Ghost ! 

I spent the day at Greenville. Gave an address, and held a 
prayer meeting. About thirty in number came out. The dark- 
ness of mind here among the people is very great. God, send help, 
for Jesus' sake. Through ignorance there is much opposition to 
the temperance work. 

Lexington, Monday, February 4th. Mrs. Birch, Sister Smith 
and I make some calls, and sing and pray at each house, in turns. 
Oh, Lord, revive Thy work. My first Gospel Temperance meeting 
held in the Baptist Church. The Lord helped me to speak from 
Mai., third chapter. 

Tuesday, 5th. Second Gospel Temperance meeting. Surely 
the Spirit of the Lord is with us, and He is blessing us greatly. 
Not so much liberty in speaking, but God is with us, and we are 
expecting great things. Oh, Lord, for Jesus' sake, answer prayer, 
and send us the Holy Ghost to quicken and revive us. 

Wednesday, 6th. We have a good meeting to-night. The 
pledge is offered and a number sign. 

Thursday, 7th. I go to Greenville this morning to be at the 
installation of officers in the Order of Good Samaritans. Call at 
Brother Day's, (a Congo), who is an earnest Christian man, and a 
deacon in the Baptist Church. God bless him. He knows the 
Lord. We have a good time singing and talking over His Word. 
Called at Sister Wink's, then at Sister Mine's. The sun is very 



Amanda Smith. 



hot, but the Lord has given me strength. Two o'clock. Mrs. 
Marshall's, Greenville. My room is all' arranged so very prettily; 
everything is so nice. God bless Mrs. Marshall. I go to church, 
sing and pray. 

Sunday, 10th. Lexington. I preached at the Methodist 
Church this morning, from Romans 12: 1. The Lord helped me, 
though I felt so bad when I first began. In the afternoon I ad- 
dressed the Sabbath School at the Baptist Church. The pastor 
and the superintendent were present. 

Monday, 11th. Have a good Bible reading this afternoon, on 
the ability of Jesus, and a grand temperance meeting to-night. 

Tuesday, 12th. Regular stated temperance prayer meeting. 
I make several calls, and take the meeting this evening. The 
Lord blesses us, and a number sign the total abstinence pledge. 

Wednesday, 13th. We had a Bible reading to-day. The Lord 
was with us. At night we organized our Gospel Temperance Band. 

Thursday, 14th. I do not get up till seven; so, much of the 
fine morning is gone. But, Oh, I felt so weary. He remembereth 
I am but dust. 

Greenville, Sinoe, Sunday, February 17, 1884. I was at Lex- 
ington to quarterly meeting. We had a good meeting. I came 
home on Monday to Mrs. Marshall's, Greenville. 

While at Lexington I went to see an old man, a Mr. Smith, a 
local preacher, and deacon of the Baptist Church. He was about 
sixty-five or seventy years old. He was much afflicted and could 
not walk. But I was told that this man was a very spiritually 
minded man, a man that people generally went to for spiritual 
advice. He claimed that the Lord revealed things to him in 
dreams, and people all about believed in him. 

I was anxious to see him, and as I always went to see the sick 
and the poor, no matter when, or how weary and tired out I was, 
I went to see this old man; and I thought I was going to be re- 
freshed by his counsel, as he had been in the way so long. He 
talked about religion, but really, to me, he did not seem like a 
man who possessed much of what he talked about. How dark 
and blank he seemed. 

I talked and prayed with him. and asked him if there was any 
text of Scripture he would like to have me read for him. He 
seemed not to think of the Bible at all. 

44 Is there no Word of God that has been blessed to you," I 
said, "since you have been afflicted?" 



854 



Autobiography OF 



44 Oh, yes," said he, "if you can find about Balaam/' 

44 Ifes," I said, 4k I know what you meaji; but what in that has 

been a blessing to you? I know Balaam was a very wicked king, 

and I cannot see what help came from it to you." 

I was told that he had a great deal of prejudice against women 

preaching. 

Just at this point he rallied, as though he was going to teach 
me something wonderful. 

44 Well," he said, 44 1 will tell you. Balaam had a cart, and the 
cart got stuck in the mud; and he had an associate, so he called 
his associate and asked him to help him pull his cart out of the 
mud. 'But/ he said, 4 how are we going to get it out?' 
4 Well,' said he, 4 if we can't get it out any other way, we will 
cuss it out! ' " 

44 Well," I said, 44 of all the Bible reading I have ever heard or 
done, I have never read any such thing in the Bible in all my life." 

44 Oh, no," he said, 44 it's not in the Bible; but this is what 
the Spirit revealed to me." 

44 What did the Spirit purpose to teach you by such a reve- 
lation?" 

44 Well," he said, 44 the cart in the mud was his wicked heart, 
and the associate was the wicked trying to lead the innocent 
astray." 

And after fifty years of being a Christian, and preacher and 
teacher, this was all he had to comfort him in his affliction. 
What a blind man! And the people at Lexington letting him go 
on into an unknown eternity. Oh, that God would awaken him 
in time. 

I have not seen so much ignorance as there seems to be among 
many of the people of this county. How I wish the Lord would 
send some good missionary to be a blessing to the people. 

Lexington, Sinoe Co., Africa, Sunday, Feb. 24, 1884. I had 
spent some months in the home of Brother Calvin Birch, whose 
faithful kindness, and that of his wife, I shall never forget. Mrs. 
F. Smith, another good sister of the Methodist Church, had invited 
me to spend a week at her home. 

I went on Saturday, and on Sunday I was taken very ill with 
bilious colic, and came very near dying. After suffering terrible 
cramp and purging for about three hours, the Lord, in mercy, 
gave me ease. But I was not able to go out all day. After that I 



Amanda Smith. 



355 



had chills and fever every other day for a while, when I began to 
miss them, and soon began to gain strength. 

On Tuesday, the 26th, I went to Louisiana. We had a fine 
temperance meeting; twenty-one signed the pledge. On Wednes- 
day, the 27th, we had a fine meeting at Thankful Baptist Church, 
Lexington. On Thursday, 28th, I went down to Greenville. 

Sunday morning, March 2. Went out to early prayer meet- 
ing; had a good time. Also at the Congregational Church there 
was a good prayer meeting. Poor Mr. Harris got a great blessing. 
May the Lord in mercy keep him. Rev. Mr. Frazier preached in 
the Congregational Church, and administered the Lord's Supper. 
The sermon was well read, but very void of spiritual power for 
such an occasion. 

March 6. In the afternoon I went to Mrs. Morgan's to meet 
the lodge of Good Templars, and Daughters of Temperance. It is 
perfectly wonderful how all these old societies, which had once 
flourished, but had well nigh died out, began to be revived all over 
the republic as soon as I had begun the Gospel Temperance work 
among the young people and children, so that when I asked for 
co-operation and help, I was told that they belonged to this society, 
and to the other society, it had gone down, but that they were 
going to commence again. So to show them that I was with them 
in anything that was for the well-being of the people, I joined 
them, and helped what I could. But, Oh, how hollow, and empty, 
and unreal. 

After all it is not the tinsel and show, but it is the real heart 
work for God and souls that Africa needs, especially. 

Friday, the 7th, I went to Mrs. Bonner's and then off to the 
Baptist Association held at the Court House. 

Sunday, March 16th, I went to Louisiana, preached in the 
morning. When we started home, and got to the river, the tide 
had gone out, and we could not get our canoe up; so we had to be 
carried through the mud to it. If some one had been near by 
where they could have taken our pictures I know they would have 
sold well. Imagine our position, on two Kroo boys' shoulders, 
while we hung down all about in spots! 

Well, we got through the slime, anyhow, and that was quite 
an item. Brother Bonner went ahead, on the boys' back. I was 
obliged to do the best I could to keep from laughing, for fear they 
would let us go in the mud together: and that was my heaviest 
task. But my time came after awhile. 



356 



Autobiography of 



We got back in time to go to the Baptist meeting. Brother 
Rocker, a licentiate in the Baptist Church, preached. He was a 
good preacher, but, Oh, how he needed the Holy Ghost. Poor 
man, how often I have prayed for him. I called to see Mr. Rice. 
The poor man is dying. I spoke to him of Jesus, who is the only 
truth and life. How sad that any one should put it off until the 
very last moment; it does look so mean to live on God's mercy all 
through life and health, and then a few minutes before the breath 
leaves you, when you cannot serve the world, and yourself, and sin, 
any longer, possibly, turn to the Lord. How foolish! God help us. 

Before I went, a temperance meeting was held in the Episco- 
pal Church, Brother Hunger. Had a grand, good meeting. 
Gospel Temperance took well there. The Lord seemed to be bless- 
ing the people with a spirit and interest, that, if continued, would 
be a blessing to them. 

On Tuesday I started early and walked to Lexington. Young 
Jenkins put me across the stream with his canoe. Wednesday I 
walked to Louisiana, then out to Cherry Ridge, held a temperance 
meeting at the church, and a number signed the pledge. We 
organized. Thursday I preached, from John, 9th chapter. After 
suffering much with my back all day, I went to Lexington, and 
then expected to go to Farmersville to another meeting. 

Monrovia, April 22, 1885. Rev. James Deputle and myself 
leave fifteen minutes past eleven for Mt. Olive. The distance is 
about seventy miles, taking the shortest cut. 

We take passage in a canoe at the waterside, and after a slow 
pull in the hot sun for three hours we come to Paynesville, the first 
stop. There we rest an hour or more. No one asked us to eat, 
but the friends had given me a small lunch before 1 started, so we 
took a snack, and then started on foot across the Old Fields, a dis- 
tance of about five miles. 

The sun was warm, and I got very tired before I got to the end . 
of the five miles. I was glad to rest, and had a short nap for ten 
minutes. We had hoped to get through to the creek, and so reach 
Marshall by seven o'clock; but the boys worked slowly, and the 
tide fell before we got off; so we had to remain all night. 

We took refuge at the house of a Mrs. Clark. Brother Deputie 
asked her if she could take us in for the night: she said it would 
be very inconvenient, but as there was no other house within five 
miles, we told her we would stop and make the best of it. 



Amanda Smith. 



35? 



It was now about seven o'clock, and I suppose the supper and 
dinner were over, and not a word was said to us; I would have 
been so glad if she had offered me a roasted casava, or anything. 
So I ate a few dry biscuits and drank a cup of cold water, and was 
very thankful. 

I had a little talk with Sister Clark about her condition; she 
said she was converted in America; she did not know the year or 
month; she seemed dead clear through; I tri^d to draw r her out; 
but sue seemed to stick fast on every side: I sang and prayed 
about Jesus, and I hoped that she would respond somewhere; but 
not a word; so I gave up and went to bed. 

This poor woman was there, pretty much alone, no church 
near by. and her nearest neighbors five miles away, and she in 
darkness equal to that of the heathen round about her, though 
born in a Christian land, and had heard the Gospel message. How 
often we find this. 

I did not change my clothes when I went to bed; I thanked 
God for a cover over my head, and a corner to lie down in: though 
I was very wet with perspiration. somehow r I slept well. At three 
in the morning. Brother Deputie sang out: 

"Sister Smith, it is time to go." 

It didn't take me long to arrange my toilet. After prayer, we 
were soon off to the waterside. There was no moon, and as it had 
been raining it w T as quite dark: so with lantern in hand we 
marched off. The boys were a little stupid, but about four o'clock 
we got pushed off; it was dark, but having a good lantern we got 
out of the creek all right; the creek was long, and in some places 
very narrow. 

We got to the head of the river just at daylight. The morn- 
ing was pleasant; about ten o'clock the sun was very hot. We got 
to a friend's house, and stopped for a rest; the sister gave us some 
coffee, bitter and black, and not. a bit of bread; poor thing, she 
didn't have any. I took a sip or two of the coffee, and ate a dry 
biscuit. 

While there the Lord sent jjs a good shower of rain, which 
cooled the atmosphere; we left there and went to Grassdale, and 
spent an hour at Sister Brown's. From there we went on to Mt. 
Olive, Brother Deputie's station and home. We reached there 
about half past five p. m., and had a cordial reception from Sister 
Deputie and the children; a comfortable home, and every part of 



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Autobiography of 



the house as clean as a pin, and his wife and children the same. 
I was thankful for a good bath, and a good dinner, as I had not 
had much for two days. 

Brother Deputie had been going up and down this river so 
long that he did not think these hardships, but pleasant; well, I did 
not think them the worst that ever was, but I did thank God they 
were no worse. One thing there is, they have plenty of fine 
oysters. 

I had a good, quiet rest from Thursday night till Sunday, be- 
fore I was called upon to take a service. Brother Deputie's church 
was a good sized thatch church, the members mostly natives, 
but, being the only church, it accommoaateci others as well. We 
walked about a half mile, and I spoke to a good company that had 
gathered. I gave the Word from Hebrews, 12:1-23. The Lord 
wonderfully helped me. Brother Philip Harris, native inter- 
preted. I was much pleased with this brother, and thought if a 
little encouragement were given he would make a faithful servant 
in the church. I remained for Sabbath School, and spoke a word 
of encouragement to the teachers and scholars, and sang a hymn: 
"Bringing in the sheaves;" then I walked home, weary, as I was 
not feeling very well all day. 

Monday I was not well, but took some medicine, and so got 
better. On Thursday I went with Brother Deputie and made four 
pastoral calls. 'We called on a Mrs. Johnson, a very interesting 
woman, who is quite sick, has a houseful of children, and is not 
converted. I spoke with her, and urged on her the necessity of 
accepting Christ, then and there. We prayed with her, but she 
seemed blank. May the Lord be merciful to her. 

April 29th, Brother and Sister Deputie and I took a nice canoe 
ride, of about a mile. Called on Deacon Kink. He was quite an 
old man; his wife, a very pleasant, sensible woman, from Pennsyl- 
vania, U. S. Brother King was a Southerner, one of the old type. 
We spent a pleasant hour with them; had a season of prayer; they 
were delighted. How those poor souls off in the desert enjoy a 
little call like that. How I do thank the Lord when it is my priv- 
ilege to sing and pray and cheer the weary traveler along the lone- 
some road. 

We called at the house of one sister who was not at home. 
Then we went on to Brother Artists. This brother was Chief Mag- 
istrate. He had been afflicted for years; could not walk; but sat 



Amanda Smith. 



359 



on the floor. His right arm is withered; all the fingers of his right 
hand are off, only the stumps remaining; his right side is withered 
all the way down; he is a great sufferer, but seems happy. He 
was quite an intelligent man; much above the average young man 
in the neighborhood or country; his wife, also, was an intelligent 
woman, and an industrious one; she kept school in their house; I 
heard the children in spelling and multiplication, and they did 
well. 

I hope to leave to-morrow for Marshall, on the Junk River. Or 
Monday I go to Paynesville, and if Brother Pitman can arrange a 
service, I will speak at his church on Tuesday night. On Wednes- 
day morning I get off for Marshall; got there about two p. M. 
Preached Friday night, Saturday night, and three times on the 
Sabbath, and left on Monday at six-twenty for Monrovia. 

Virginia, Africa, November 16th, 1884. This was a glorious 
victory. I had been holding a meeting here every night for a 
week. The Lord poured out His Spirit, and there was a great 
awakening among the people. 

Old Brother Jacob Harris, who was a member of the Method- 
ist Church, and had been for years, and was much interested in the 
subject of holiness, by faith was enabled to see the way clearly, 
and claim the blessing of cleansing, and receive the witness of the 
Holy Ghost. It was about eleven o'clock, a. m., when he called tc 
see me, where I was stopping, at Sister Watson's. Sister Watson 
was a grand woman, and for several years had enjoyed the great 
salvation, and was a power in the church and neighborhood. 

Brother Harris came in to see me that morning, and, as I was 
trying to show him the simplicity of faith, he said: 

14 Yes, Sister Smith, I see it, and I have been trying and pray- 
ing for this sanctification for tover three years; and, somehow, I 
don't know how to take hold. But I have given myself all up, and 
I have put myself in the hands of God; aid I am resolved to trust 
Him as long as I live; I never mean to stop; I want the blessing of 
sanctification. " 

The blessed Spirit was all this time overshadowing him till he 
could hardly speak sometimes for the flood of tears that rushed in 
upon him. 

"Now, Brother Harris." I said, "can you accept Christ as 
your full and complete Saviour, now? He is made unto you wis- 
dom, righteousness, sanctification and redemption; now, right 



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Autobiography of 



while you are sitting on that chair, on this veranda, at this very 
hour, before you move from that spot, before you eat another mor- 
sel, before you drink another drop of water; now, Christ is made 
unto you wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption, 
and His blood cleanseth from all sin; will you take Christ now? " 

Looking at me, he lifted his hand and said, " Sister Smith, 1 
am determined to fight for this till I die. I give my life all intc 
the hands of God, now." 

"Brother Harris, you have been up to the point many times 
before, and gone right back; will you, do you, here and now, 
do it?" 

He was looking right at me. I repeated, "Do you here and 
now, take Christ as your wisdom, Christ as your righteousness, 
Christ as your sanctification, Christ as your redemption, and be- 
lieve His blood does now cleanse you from all sin, now, right now! 
Not because you feel, but because God has said so, and, in the 
authority of His Word, do you stand and declare to the dying 
world, not doubting, the conditions all being met, and trusting the 
eternal God, do you declare that ' The blood of Jesus Christ, His 
son, cleanseth you from all sin? ' Now, do you do it?" 

"Yes, I do;" he said, and as loud as I could I shouted, 
" Amen." 

The old man buried his face in 1 his hands, and, weeping, said, 
" Glory to Jesus. " 

"Trust Him," I said, "and do not doubt. He does save you 
now." 

"Oh, praise the Lord;" he cried, then sprang to his feet, 
grabbed hold of Sister Watson's hand, and then hold of my hand. 
Brother Watson was in the house;. he went after him. " Oh, glory! 
I am free, as I never have been before in all my life. Oh, how 
sweet! Glory!" 

After about fifteen minutes of shouting and praying, he took 
his hat and cane and started for home. He said, "Pray for me, 
that T may ever be kept on the rock." 

I stepped into the parlcr, and said, " Let's all pray now." 

We were all so full of praise and thanksgiving it was a little 
difficult to pray; but I tried to pray as best I could, then I asked 
Sister Watson to pray. Poor Brother Watson had been seeking the 
blessing so long; may God help him, and quickly. 

Brother Harris had been a member of the Methodist Church 



Amanda Smith. 



361 



for thirty years; and he said that Sister Watson's testimony after 
she first got the blessing first stirred him up to pray; so she has 
been praying for him and helping him all she could ever since. 

"I knew this child," he said, " when she was a little girl; and 
she has grown up, and been converted, and sanctified, and here I 
have been in the church all these years, and what have I done? 
So I started out to pray, and glory be to God, He has heard me. 
Oh, Sister Smith, she did help me all she could, but I could not 
see it; oh, I thank the Lord He sent you, and you seemed to 
make it so plain, the points you went over I could see, and I thank 
3od." 

" Of victory now o'er Satan's power. 
Let all the ransomed sing; 
And triumph in the dying hour 
Through Christ, the Lord, their king." 



CHAPTER XXVII. 



CONFERENCE AT MONROVIA — ENTERTAINING THE BISHOP — SIERRA 
LEONE — GRAND CANARY — A STRANGE DREAM — CONFERENCE 
AT BASSA — BISHOP TAYLOR. 

Monrovia, Jan. 1st, 1885. The morning is lovely, and my note 
of praise is, "Oh! Lord, I will praise Thee, and in the great con- 
gregation I will tell of Thy wonderful works. Thou hast brought 
me through deep waters the past year. I will praise Thee while 
I have being. Praise the Lord! " 

The ladies are holding a bazar in the parlors of the mansion 
of Mrs. President Roberts. They don't hold their bazars and fairs 
in the churches in Africa. That is one good thing. I go down 
and spend an hour. Feeling very weak and bad, I go home. 

Friday, Jan. 9th. Praise the Lord for this day. The President 
vetoes a bill for taking the duties off imported gin and whisky. 
Amen. Thank God. A great triumph for our temperance people, 
It is a noble act, and it took a man of courage to do it just at this 
time. There has been much prayer among the people, and espec- 
ially in our band meetings. We are expecting the Bishop, and 
think we are in good condition for a blessing. 

Wednesday, Jan. 21st. How glad I am to be here just at this 
time, and so to help the Bishop a little. It appears that somehow 
Brother Ware and the official brethren have had some little mis- 
understanding; so the end of it is to be the paying of a large sum 
for the Bishop's board. He has arranged this matter with Mr. R. 
E. Sherman, who is a merchant, and has a fine large house — the 
next in rank, for size, to the President's mansion. 

Mr. Sherman is one of the leading Deacons in the Presbyterian 
Church. So it is with him Brother Ware has arranged that the 
Bishop shall stop. He is to have his boats and crew all ready to 
go to meet the Bishop, as soon as the gun fires, and the steamer is 

(362) 



Amanda Smith. 



363 



in. Mr. and Mrs. Sherman are among some of the best friends 
I have in Monrovia. How kind they are to me. God bless them. 

Mr. Sherman does not object to taking the Bishop, but thinks 
it would not look so well, when there are men in the Methodist 
Church who have good houses, and are amply able to entertain 
the Bishop, or anyone else. Brother Henry Cooper is the leading 
Steward; he and his son, Jesse, both have their own large brick 
houses, and are prosperous merchants, and they have their own 
boats and crews. Then there is Brother Campbell, also a Class 
Leader and Steward in the Methodist Church, with a beautiful 
home. But they do not know anything about Brother Ware's 
arrangement. After he has thus completed all his arrangements, 
he goes up the river. 

On Wednesday night we had a very precious meeting. I had 
given a talk on the message of holiness; well, it is a kind of lecture 
from that grand little book, called the Believer's Hand-book of 
Holiness, by Brother Davies. I gave this talk to the people; and 
fchen we closed with a consecration meeting. The Lord helped us 
very greatly. As we were going out from the church it was 
whispered to me: 

" Did you know that Brother Ware had arranged for Bishop 
Taylor, when he comes, to stop with Mr. Sherman?" 

"No." 

And then it went, just like a thing will go in Liberia. So off 
I started for the facts in the case. As I got to Brother Sherman's 
gate, he was standing talking with some one. He spoke to me 
very kindly, and said: 

"Well, Mrs. Smith, I hear your Bishop is coming." 

"Yes," I said, "so I have heard; and that he is to be your 
guest." 

"Well, yes," he said; " how is it that you folks can't take 
sare of your Bishop?" 

This remark was meant as a joke, of course. 

"Well, now," I said, "that is a pity, when we have such men 
in the Methodist Church as Brother Henry Cooper, and Mr. 
Gabriel Moore, and others. But I think we can relieve you of that 
task, Mr. Sherman. Though I think it is very kind in you to be 
willing to entertain the Bishop. But I'm going to see Brother 
Cooper about it. " 

" Well," he said, "Brother Ware came to me before he went 



364 



Autobiography of 



up the river, and made the arrangement. But I think you would 
all feel better if the Bishop stopped with some of your own church 
people. " 

"Certainly," I said; "and when there are those who are so 
able to do it, without troubling you." 

So I thanked him, and off I went to Brother Cooper's and told 
him all about it. 

" Yes, Sister Smith," he said, "we are expecting the Bishop 
here. But Brother Ware had said nothing to me about his 
arrangement." 

"Well, that is the way it is. And the steamer may come 
to-night or to-morrow. So you get your boat and everything ready, 
and then tell Mr. Sherman that you or Jesse will see to getting the 
Bishop ashore." 

"All right." 

So all was arranged, and I went home and left the rest with 
the Lord. The people were glad that I did what I could. 

The next morning was a lovely morning, as mornings in Africa 
generally are. I was very busy all day. In the afternoon I went 
up town and made some calls. About seven o'clock in the even- 
ing, a messenger came to Mrs. Moore's, where I was, and said the 
Bishop had come, and had gone to the church. It was our regular 
preaching night; so the Bishop, when he arrived, made his way 
straight to the church. 

My! when I heard it. I went on double-quick clown town; 
went to the church, and there was the Bishop in the pulpit. He 
preached a powerful sermon, from the text: "Thy will be done." 
And, as the people generally turned out well Thursday nights, the 
Bishop had a good congregation, and the people generally were 
delighted. I was delighted beyond expression. I had seen him 
before and knew him. Praise the Lord. 

"Well, how did he get ashore?" 

When the steamer arrived, she didn't fire her gun signal, as 
usual; she had no cargo for that port; only came in to let the 
Bishop off; so the captain sent him ashore in one of the steamer's 
boats, with the chief officer; so that Brother Cooper did not have 
to launch his boat, though he was all ready, and Jesse had seen 
the steamer, and was at the wharf getting ready to send off, when 
lo, and behold! there was the Bishop before him. 

What a beautiful victory this was. How often I have stood 



Amanda Smith 



365 



still and seen God overrule things of man's device, and work His 
sovereign will. Amen. 

So Bishop Taylor's home from that day has been at Brother 
Henry Cooper's house, when in Liberia. Sometimes he has had 
to stop there three weeks, before he could get away. And God 
has always helped Brother Cooper, and always will. 

How well I remember that all day holiness meeting, when 
God so wonderfully sanctified Brother Cooper, and, a few days 
later, his dear wife. How well I remember the morning she came 
to Sister Payne's, singing her song of victory, for she had got the 
baptism in her own home. She came up to Sister Payne's, where 
my home was. I saw her when she was coming in. Her face was 
all a glow of light. Oh! I shall never forget it. The first thing 
she said as she came in, was: 

" Glory to His name! 
Glory to His name! 

There to my heart was the blood applied; 
Glory to His name! " 

And she has been singing it ever since; in the midst of trials 
and storms, for she has had them, and so will everybody that goes 
into the fountain straight, God doesn't often develop on any other 
line than that of trial, and sometimes suffering, in various ways; 
" For the trial of your faith is more precious tlian gold, though it 
be tried with fire." 

Saturday, January 24th. The Bishop and I were invited to 
take breakfast at the United States Legation, American Consul, 
Hon. John Smyth. Prof. Brown, who was a guest of Mr. Smyth's, 
was also present. We had a most elegant breakfast, served in real 
American style, and we thoroughly enjoyed it. 

I think the Bishop had no thought of any such reception in 
Africa. But Mr. Smyth, who is so thoroughly qualified for his 
position, is always quick to perform the courtesies due to strangers, 
and especially those from his own country, America. 

The Bishop and I made a number of calls together in the 
different places. He never objected to going anywhere, among 
the poorest of the poc \ He would go in and sit down, sing, pray 
and talk, and leave his blessing. He never seemed to give the 
impression to anyone that they need to stand off from him, 
or be afraid of him, because he was Bishop. He was always 
congenial and kind to everyone. 



366 



Autobiography of 



The Conference convened on the 29th. The Bishop preached 
every night, and on Sunday morning, and then addressed the 
Sabbath School in the afternoon, and at four o'clock preached at 
Krootown. The Lord wonderfully poured out His spirit, and 
there was a gracious revival. Sinners were converted, back- 
sliders reclaimed, believers sanctified. Oh, what a tidal wave 
swept over us! So the Conference convened in the midst of the 
flood-tide of revival. Praise the Lord. 

Sunday, February 1st, 1885. The great ordination. Ten Dea- 
cons and nine Elders ordained by Bishop Taylor. Glory to God. It 
was a wonderful day. Such had not been seen in Monrovia before. 

Monday, February 2nd. I am very weak in body, but my 
faith is strong in God. I make some calls, and go to see William 
Potter, whom everybody is afraid of, for he is a very wicked man. 
But I never was treated with more respect by anybody than by 
him. I talked to him, and told him how wrong it was to treat 
himself and his wife and children as he did. He listened to me 
kindly, and thanked me. Poor, old William Potter. May God 
save him. 

Wednesday, February 4th. I am asked to take the service 
to-night. The Lord helped me wonderfully. I spoke from the 
fourteenth chapter of John. Several professed to be saved. At 
six o'clock I invited the Bishop, with some of the leading young 
men of the place, to tea at Mrs. Payne's. There were but one or 
two of the young men Christians, and I wanted them to see the 
Bishop, as he was so fatherly, and I thought a nice, good talk 
from him would do them good; so in every way possible I tried to 
help. If Israel is not gathered, Jacob will not lose his reward. 

Thursday, February 5th. I am invited, with the Bishop, to 
take breakfast at Mr. Gabriel Moore's. His Honor, the President 
of the Republic, Hillary Johnson, and Mrs. Day, a white mission- 
ary of Muhlenburg Mission, of the Lutheran Church, are present. 
Mr. Day is not able to be present. God bless Mr. and Mrs. Day. 
What a sanitarium their home at Muhlenburg Mission has been to 
those who have been weary and worn. How many pleasant days 
I have spent at their home. It was there I had one of my fiercest 
attacks of fever, and I thought sure I would die. How kind Mr. 
and Mrs. Day were. They did all they could, and they made me 
so comfortable. May God ever bless them, is my prayer. Amen. 

Sunday, February 8th. The new pastor is installed. Thirty- 



Amanda Smith. 



367 



seven join the church this morning. Praise the Lord. I take the 
service at night. Speak from John, fifteenth chapter: "Abide 
in Christ." The Lord helps me, and gives us blessing. 

Monday, February 9th. This has been a very busy day. I 
called to see Mrs. Van Harmon, a white lady, the wife of one of 
the merchants. She had been sick with fever. She was glad to 
see me, and I found her a little better. Then I called to see Mrs. 
Day, and go with her to church. She proposed having a picnic, 
a little outing, for the Bishop's benefit. She went around among 
the ladies, and it "was arranged for. 

Wednesday, February 11th. We all go to Mr. Johnson's farm; 
Bishop Taylor. Prof. Brown, Hon John Smyth, Mr. Moore, Mrs. 
C. A. Moore, Miss Payne and a number of others. 

Friday, February 13th. Mrs. C. A. Moore and daughter, and 
Dr. Moore and myself go to Madeira, or Grand Canary. Mrs. 
Moore had not been well for some time, and her father-in-law 
thought that a trip would do her good. Her mother consented to 
her going, if I would go with her, as she was not accustomed to 
traveling much. They are very kind, and pay all my expenses, 
and I go. How much I need the change and rest. 

Sunday, February 15th. Sierra Leone. We got in early on 
Saturday afternoon, and went ashore. This morning we went to 
the Cathedral and heard a grand sermon from the new Bishop, 
Ingham. We went again this evening. The sermon was on 
"Consecration and Holiness." But the people didn't seem to 
know what he was driving at. A beautiful congregation; a num- 
ber of white persons are present, mostly government officials. 

Monday, February 16th. We leave at ten this morning and go 
on the steamer again. And now we are orT. Thank the Lord, I 
am feeling a little better. 

Tuesday, February 17th. We are all a little seasick to-day. 
I'm the best of the party. Thanks be to God for His loving mercy, 
for it is wonderful. 

Wednesday, February 18th. Praise God this morning for His 
goodness. Mrs. Moore and I purpose to read the Gospels through 
while on our voyage. May He help us for His name's sake. 

Thursday, February 19th. Head winds. That means sea- 
sickness. How mean one feels. But, Oh! how grand the ocean. 
How majestic and God-like. As He holds and moves the mighty 
ocean, so may He hold and move me. 



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Autobiography of 



Friday, February 20th. Trials begin. But, Lord, Thou hast 
been my dwelling place in all ages, and such Thou art to-day, and 
my soul doth magnify Thee. 

Sunday, February 22nd. The swell is not so strong to-day, so 
we are all feeling better. Thank God. We hope to reach Grand 
Canary by Tuesday. 

Tuesday, February 24th. Praise the Lord! I am glad that 
we are at Grand Canary. It looks beautiful from the steamer. 
We will go ashore in about two hours. First night ashore. 
Everybody speaks French. We don't understand anything anyone 
says, and they do not understand what we say. We manage to 
get on by motion — almost perpetual motion — but we get through. 

Wednesday, February 25th. Praise the Lord for His goodness 
so far. If we were where we could speak in our own tongue f 
wherein we were born, with all the kindness shown us, strangers 
among strange people, we would feel quite at home. 

Thursday, February 26th. The redeemed of the Lord shall 
dwell in safety by Him. How very near He has seemed all day 
to-day. The lady of the house goes out with us. She under- 
stands a good deal of English, but can speak but little. She takes 
us to a store where a gentleman can talk English quite well; so 
that we get a little shopping done, and go through the motions of 
talking Spanish. 

Saturday, February 28th. The Lord has helped us, and a 
little lad about ten years old, a very bright little fellow, formerly 
from Mexico, comes to us as interpreter. We are feeling glad and 
thankful to the Lord for His love. 

Sunday, March 1st. There is no church service here, except 
Roman Catholic. So we have a quiet rest in the morning; in the 
afternoon we take a little walk, and come to a very fine Catholic 
Church; we go in, and I spend a half hour with tears for the poor 
people. Oh, Lord! How long! How long! The ignorance of the 
people, and the arrogance of the priests, is something appalling. 

Tuesday, March 10th. We have had some very pleasant walks 
and drives since we have been here. The scenery all about is 
beautiful. The balmy air and the beautiful flowers and fruits of 
all kinds are delightful. They tell us the month of September is 
the finest month to be here. We go out to-day and finish our little 
shopping. I have been deeply wounded to-day. I have made a 
mistake in purchasing what I need not have done. But I did it 



Amanda Smith. 



369 



without first telling the Lord. I feel He forgives. With Him 
is mercy and forgiveness. 

Tuesday, March 17. We have spent twenty-one days, and we 
leave to-day for Monrovia on the steamer "Yaulter," Captain 
Haynes. 

Wednesday, March 18th. Seasick all day. The port hole was 
left open, and the water floods the ladies' cabin. I bail till I 
am quite exhausted. I do all I can to help and make it pleasant 
for my friend. But I find I fail. Oh! how my heart aches at the 
spirit manifested. But God has undertaken for me, so I rest in 
Him. A night or two before I left Grand Canary, I had a remark- 
able dream. I had had a day of trial. I prayed and wept before 
the Lord. That night I dreamed of seeing a beautiful brown 
snake. It was not long, and it had the 'face of a woman, very 
placid and nice. I. seemed to know the face. And, what was 
more strange, it had very black, wavy hair; and I thought to my- 
self, " How pretty that snake is. It ought not to be killed. But 
then it is a snake, and it is one of the poisonous kind." Then the 
face seemed to change just a little, and I tried to get out of the 
way; and as I stepped back from it, it seemed to watch to see 
which way I went; and I kept on going back till I got to where I 
made a spring to get out of the way, and this woke me. How I 
watched that dream. And how very real it turned out. When 
I saw how it would likely turn out, I trembled from head to foot, 
and only found relief from my heartache when I would kneel in 
prayer. 

Monday, March 23rd. Bathurst. We shall not leave here 
probably until five o'clock. So I make the acquaintance of a Mr. 
Taylor and his wife, missionaries of St. Louis, Senegal. They are 
very nice people. She called to see some friends, and took me 
with her; among others, Mrs. Nickles, Rev. Nickles' wife. He is 
colonial chaplain. She is the daughter of Bishop Crowther of the 
Niger. I was glad to make her acquaintance, and we had some 
pleasant correspondence. They now live at Freetown, Sierra 
Leone, where I had the pleasure of seeing them frequently. 

Sierra Leone, Friday, March 27th. The steamer has much 
cargo to leave at this port, so we all go ashore. We dine with Mr. 
Boyle, Liberian consul to Sierra Leone. Had a very nice dinner. 
As there were several courses, it was very late before we got 
through. Prior to this we walked about; made several calls at 



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Autobiography of 



different places. Then we went to Mr. Boyle's, had our dinner, 
and between nine and ten o'clock at night, started back to the 
steamer. Dr. Moore went with us to the wharf, and saw us in the 
boats, but we women had to go alone with the crew. How 1 thank 
God. It was a lovely moonlight night; such as is only seen, in 
Africa; for I think the moon is more lovely there than anywhere 
I ever saw it. I thought it was beautiful in India. But, oh! the 
moonlight in Africa. It was still and light. 

The steamer lay a good ways out, but w^e got there in safety. 
The captain was surprised when he saw us alone, and said we had 
run a great risk. But we did not know it. Praise the Lord for 
His goodness. We left Saturday about four p. m. 

Sunday, March 29th. The day is very pleasant. There is 
not much we can do. I have a few tracts, so give them here and 
there to the men on deck, and say a word- as best I can, trusting 
the Lord will bless it. 

Monday, March 30th. Eight o'clock. Here we are in Mon- 
rovia harbor. Praise the Lord. We are all well. How good the 
Lord is to bring me home in safety and peace. After a little re- 
freshment I make several calls: 

Thursday, April 2nd, 1885. The Lord's Word to me this 
morning, is: "I am the way, the truth, and the life." A good, 
quiet day, and much peace and joy in prayer. I preach to-night 
at the Methodist Church, from the 5th chapter of Amos. The 
Lord help me. 

Friday, April 3rd. (Good Friday). The Lord is my light, and 
my salvation. This is one of my fast days. My soul takes on new 
strength. This morning I go to the Episcopal Church, as it is a 
little nearer, and hope to hear a sermon on the resurrection of our 
Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. But I am disappointed in the sub- 
ject. All right, Lord, I rest in Thee. Thou hast risen in my soul. 
Hallelujah! 

Sunday, April 5th. Praise the Lord, He lets me live to see 
another Easter morning. 

Tuesday, April 7th. Praise the Lord for this day's privilege. 
What a good, sensible talk I have listened to at the Baptist Church. 
Elder Jordan, just out from America, brings the truth. Oh! Lord, 
I thank Thee. How he has confirmed the Word that the Lord has 
helped me to give. Of course they will believe it, for he is a man, 
and a Baptist at that. 



Amanda Smith. 



371 



Wednesday, April 8th. I am very sorry, but the work is hin- 
dered because of custom. The Baptists are not accustomed to 
having speaking in a general way. So, Elder Jordan, after speak- 
ing to-night arranged a general meeting, and says it is free for any- 
body to express themselves in regard to the work. 

Thursday, April 9th. Of course, as it was not a close meeting, 
several of the Methodists went. But there were not a baker's dozen 
of the Baptists there. They were frightened, I suppose. It was 
too broad. He went on for several days, but nothing very special 
was done. 

Tuesday, April 21st. The Lord is good, a stronghold in the 
day of trouble. I have called and had a talk with Brother Capehart, 
the pastor of the church, about holding an all day holiness meet- 
ing. He is favorable, and will do all he can to help. Thank God. 

Wednesday, April 22nd. I leave Monrovia with Brother 
Deputie for Mt. Olive. We leave at eleven o'clock in the morning, 
and in three hours we get to what is called " The Old Fields. " We 
stop that night, and start at three o'clock in the morning, and 
reach Mt. Olive at five. We have to go by canoe. The creeks are 
low, and we have to manage so as to catch the tides. 

Sunday, April 26th. Praise the Lord, I am better this morn- 
ing, and walk a mile to church and take the service. This is the 
first native church I have been in since I have been in the coun- 
try. The Lord helped me to speak from Hebrews, 12:2. The 
Lord blessed. There was one native man who said he would join the 
church if I would stay. Poor fellow^. Sister Deputie and her fam- 
ily have stood very true to the temperance cause ever since it was 
organized. 

Monday, April 27th. I am not well at all to-day, but I rest in 
the Lord, and can wait for Him. In the afternoon I have a good 
talk with Sister Deputie and Sister Artist. I tell them my experi- 
ence of holiness. May God make it a blessing. 

Tuesday, April 28th. A little more strength this morning. I 
go with Brother Deputie, and make four calls. Sing and pray 
at each place, and then walk home, and pray at family worship. 
Many times, work like this would average seven times a day. 

Wednesday, April 29th. I am troubled with fever again to- 
day, in my back. I am wonderfully saved in God. Oh! how He 
has blessed me in my private devotion, and while at family 
prayer. 



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Autobiography of 



Friday, May 1st, 1885. Brother Williams sends his son to Mt. 
Olive for me, to bring me to the canoe, and we start off at nine A. 
m. for Marshall. We stop at Grassdale, a very pretty little place, 
having a number of Liberian settlers, and some very good houses. 
I call to see King Tom. Sing, and pray with him. He is a good, old 
man, and is struggling for light. God save him. I believe He will. 

Sunday, May 3rd. Marshall, on the Junk River. I took the 
service at the Methodist Church this morning. Spoke from the 
1st chapter of the 1st Epistle of Peter. I had great liberty in 
speaking, and I believe the Lord blessed the people. I spoke in 
the Sabbath School in the afternoon, and spoke again at night. 

Monday, May 4th. Leave Marshall for Shetlenville, at six A. 
m. and arrive at eleven. Stop at Mrs. D.'s, have breakfast, and 
then pass on to Paynesville, which is twenty miles further on; 
then got out of our canoe and walked seven miles. Arrived at 
Brother Pitman's at seven p. M. If it had not been that Brother 
Deputie knew all this route so well I don't know what I should 
have done. When I had almost given out (for it seemed to me we 
never would get to Brother Pitman's, that long walk from the 
mouth of the creek across what they called "the Old Fields" — it 
was old fields, indeed), I said to Brother Deputie, " Dear me, 
Brother Deputie, aren't we almost there? " 

"Oh!" he said, "Sister Smith, don't you know the Presby- 
terians believe in final perseverance? That's what we must do. 
We will get there bye and bye. 1> 

And so we did. I think it was about eight o' ciock in the 
evening when we got in. Brother and Sister Pitman were glad to 
see us, and soon had us a good supper, which was very acceptable, 
for I was hungry. We had a little chat, and then went to bed. 

Thursday, May 7th. I leave Brother Pitman's to-day for 
Monrovia. Have a walk of two miles, then get into the canoe, 
and in three hours and a half am in Monrovia. Praise the Lord. 

Monday, May 11th. A number of letters written. Oh! how 
they accumulate, and what a tax this is. And yet, how nice it is 
to receive letters from our friends at home; and one feels it is 
right to answer them; and I thank God for the many friends He 
has ffiven me. 

I left Monrovia for the Conference at Bassa, in January, 1886. I 
had only arranged to stay three weeks — not longer; allowing, as I 
thought, for the delay in getting back to Monrovia. I did not take 



Amanda Smith. 



373 



my little native girl, Frances, with me; I left her at my home, at 
Mrs. Paynes', where I staid in Monrovia, where she would be well 
looked after and cared for until I got back. 

I had not heard directly from Bishop Taylor, but as the Con- 
ference was to be held at Bassa, we heard flying reports of the 
Bishop's movements: he was to stop at Monrovia, and he was to 
spend three months in the regions round about, go to Bopora, etc. 

Not that the Bishop had given it out, or knew anything about 
it; but then some people feel they have a right to draw on their 
imagination, or invent just whatever will suit the case; and many 
times one will find himself all at sea; for when you think you have 
a fact, lo! it is not there. But amid all this, there are some facts 
that remain, and will to the end of time. 

An American vessel came in — the bark Monrovia — and as it 
was going to Bassa, though it was a week before the opening of 
the session of Conference, I thought I had better go, as I wanted 
to go, and this might be my only chance; for though a steamer 
was due, it might not stop at Monrovia. 

The captain of the vessel was kind enough, through a good 
word spoken him by my son (for so he was to me all the time I 
was in Liberia, God bless the dear young man), B. Y. Payne, and 
put himself out considerably to accommodate me, and my friend 
who went with me, Mrs. Emma Cooper. I think we were about 
twenty-four hours on what they called a " good sea." 

Well we had a week before the Conference opened. As I had 
not been there for some time, I spent the week in visiting among* 
the peorjle — the poor and sick, and others on all sides. 

I remember one morning I called on a poor, young German, 
who was sick with fever. He had not been in Africa long. He 
was a young man who was well raised and trained, well educated, 
and bore about him all the marks of a gentleman. He had charge 
of a German store in Bassa. As he was alone, and lonesome, he would 
often in the evening come over and talk with Mr. Gus. Williams, 
who was his neighbor, and kept a large store on the same street. 

Poor fellow! how glad he was when I called to see him. He 
said that he was better; but I saw from his looks that he needed 
help, and good nursing, and medical attention quick, or he would 
not stay long; the poor fellow tried to be cheerful, and I said 
nothing to alarm him. I encouraged him to do all he could for 
himself, and put his trust in God. He was not religious, but very 



374 



Autobiography of 



respectful. He had been several times in our Gospel Temperance 
meetings, and told me he was much interested. I told him I 
would like to pray with him; I saw he was greatly embarrassed, 
but he did not object. The Lord helped me, and I left him with 
a mother's pity in my heart. 

In the course of a week or two he was dead. How glad I was 
that I had gone and clone my duty by this poor man. I was 
laughed at and criticised at the time. "The idea of your going 
and praying with that white German trader! " 

Well, I know that as a rule they only have respect for Africa 
for the money they get out of it. 

" But, Oh! " I said, " he has a soul, and a poor mother some- 
where; I believe she would thank me for going to see her boy if no 
one else did." 

Oh, how often I have pitied these young men; some of them 
were well bred, and well raised, from Scotland and Germany. I 
have seen them at Calabar, and also at Lagos. I believe they 
sign a contract to stay a certain length of time; and, being young, 
and unused to the climate, and having no one to look after them but 
their native men that help around, many of them in a short time die. 
How my heart ached as I stood in the grave yard at old Calabar, 
on a beautiful hillside facing the great ocean — the missionaries' 
burying ground. Some missionaries from Scotland, and Jamaica, 
West Indies, and young men from England and Germany, 

As I stood and looked as they were pointed out to me — their 
friends have sent many of them beautiful tomb-stones — I wept as 
I thought of the song that Bishop Taylor taught me sitting in the 
boat on the Cavala River; I shall never forget it, how he sang it 
the first time I ever heard it: 

" At the sounding of the trumpet, when the saints shall gather 
home, 

We will greet each other by the crystal sea; 
With the friends and all the loved ones that are waiting us to 
come, 

What a gathering of the faithful that will be." 

"What a gathering, gathering, 

At the sounding of the glorious jubilee, 
What a gathering, gathering, 

What a gathering of the faithful that will be." 



Amanda Smith, 



375 



But to return to my story. I think the Conference was to 
convene on the 29th, and the Bishop got in several days before the 
time, also. It was well that I left Monrovia on that vessel, for the 
steamer that brought the Bishop did not stop at Monrovia; only at 
Bassa; so I should have missed it, if I had waited for that steamer. 

I was at Lower Buchanan, and did not know the Bishop had 
arrived until several hours after; and I went up to Edina, the seat 
of the Conference, and there was quite a stir. The Bishop had 
arrived. The brethren were coming in from their different sta- 
tions, and several had got in, taking their opportunities as best 
they could. It was not very convenient for them always to get to 
Conference in Africa. Sometimes they had to go two or three days 
ahead in order to be there in time. 

Brother Rust, Sr., was pastor in charge of the church at 
Edina, and the old gentleman was a little peculiar; and as the 
Bishop had come unexpectedly, and he had not got a notification 
in due time, as he thought he ought to have done, he was feeling 
quite out of sorts. And besides, he was getting his house 
shingled; and hf being pastor, of course the Bishop, when he 
arrived, was sent to his house. 

I was told all this, and how unpleasant they were feeling, so 
as I knew them very well, I thought I would go up and help a little 
bit. So I went to the house and found that the old gentleman, and 
his wife, too, were feeling just as I had heard. They began to tell 
me how unprepared they were, etc. I talked to them, and told 
them the Bishop was very plain, and would not expect them to do 
any extra fixing for him. Of course I talked quietly, for the 
Bishop was in the room near by. 

They thought someone else could have accommodated him 
better. But this one was afraid because he was "Bishop," and 
another one did not like to do it, because he was "Bishop." 
So as I was talking and explaining to Brother and Sister Rust as 
best I could, the dear Bishop overheard what we were saying, and 
he called out: 

" Oh, brethren, don't trouble about me; I can sleep outdoors; I 
would prefer to do so." 

And when I went into the room, there he sat, smiling, and 
mending his mosquito net. 

Well, ' ' he said, "Amanda, how are you?" 

" Very w,ell, Bishop; God bless you." 



376 



Autobiography of 



" Have you got a thimble? I cannot get on so well without a 
thimble." 

So I got a thimble and helped him mend his mosquito net. 
But he didn't have to sleep outdoors. 

As the Bishop had arrived several days before the Conference, 
he had an extra Sunday, and Brother Morgan, who had charge of 
our church at Hartford, came down to Edina and insisted on the 
Bishop's going up and preaching for them on Sunday at Hartford. 
Edina was a larger town, and the Bishop would have preached on 
Sunday to a larger number of people; but as the people had never 
seen him up in that part, Brother Morgan was very anxious that 
he should go up, and he asked me if I would accompany the 
Bishop. 

Of course I went, and if he had not asked me I should have 
gone anyhow, because I knew all the people up there. I had been 
up there about six months, and I knew I would be of some service 
to look after the Bishop a little, and do all I could; and having 
been up there before, I had the hang of things a little, and I was 
quite sure I would be of service. 

So on Saturday afternoon Brother Rust, the Bishop, myself 
and several others went to Hartford. 

It was not as convenient for Brother Morgan's folks as it would 
have been for some others that I knew to entertain the Bishop, 
but he thought as he was pastor, and had invited the Bishop, it 
was his duty to entertain him. So his sister-in-law, Miss Barclay, 
and myself arranged the room the best we could. I stopped with 
a friend not far away, and went back and forth and did all I could. 

The dear old Bishop was as kind, and gentle, and pleasant, as 
if he had been in a palace. He sat and conversed, and made the 
poor things feel comfortable, because he saw they were doing the 
best they could. 

My! as I think it over now, I wonder what some of our 
Bishops at home would have done. There are no hotels in Africa 
like there are here,- but there are some pleasant and comfortable 
homes. But these are not always the people that take the Bishop. 
Brother Morgan was a grand man; a black Englishman, born, 
raised and educated in the West Indies; a very intelligent man. 
His wife, also, was a West Indian — a Miss Barclay. 

The family of Barcla,ys are as fine a family as there is in 
Liberia. Mr. Arthur Barclay is a leading lawyer in Monrovia, 



Amanda Smith. 



377 



a young man of high moral character, and a real, true standby in 
our Methodist Sunday School, and also an earnest worker in the 
temperance cause; or was when I was there. 

The Bishop preached at Hartford Sunday morning and even- 
ing in our little church. On Monday we went to Fortsville, and 
he preached there Monday night. Tuesday we came back to 
Edina, had a rest of a day or so, and then the Conference. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 



OLD CALABAR — VICTORIA'S JUBILEE — CAPE MOUNT — CLAY- ASH- 
LAND HOLINESS ASSOCIATION — RELIGION OF AFRICA — TRIAL 
FOR WITCHCRAFT — THE WOMEN OF AFRICA. 

Old Calabar, West Africa, May 29, 1887. To-day I made my 
first visit to the King's Yard at Duketown. Mrs. Lisle and I, with 
a native Christian woman for interpreter, visited the women in 
the native town. Oh, the sadness, and the deplorable condition of 
these poor women. The wives of the kings and chiefs are not 
allowed to go out to church, or to go out at all without permission. 

The first yard we visited was that of a big chief who has 
about twenty wives, and that number, or more, of slaves. The 
first court was the quarters and houses of these slaves. Passing 
out of this, up a dingy alley into a small court, then through a 
door into a large, open courtyard, we come to the quarters of the 
wives. 

At the entrance of the first door are planted in the doorway 
four human skulls. I tried to step aside, but every way I stepped 
it seemed to me I stepped on one. It was a very uncomfortable 
feeling, but then I knew I had not done anything to the poor souls. 

In the center of the yard cf this large court was a tree with a 
little, low frame-work around it. Within this frame-work was a 
large American dish, such as we would use here to put a turkey 
on, with a human skull on. As I looked at it I thought of Daniel 
Webster. It was a skull quite resembling that of the great states- 
man; of such marvelous shape and proportions. 

To the right, and very nearly in front, was the head of a goat. 
All had been sacrificed. I said, " W T hen was this done? " 

" Oh, years ago, men and women were offered for sacrifice; but 
since the missionaries have been here it has been stopped, and the 
skulls are a remembrance." 

(378) 



Amanda Smith. 



379 



My second visit to the King's Yard was Sunday, June 12th. 
We went to four houses. I sang, and talked through an inter- 
preter, and prayed, and told them how I found Jesus, and how He 
saved me. Poor things, how interested they seemed; and I saw the 
great tears in their eyes. 

Some of the women were very good looking; good features and 
beautifully formed, as are also their children. Oh, how my heart 
longed after them for Jesus. 

At the house of Ironbar, who is a big chief, the first thing we 
saw on entering was in one corner of the courtyard a large juju, 
the head of an elephant, which represents a superstition they all 
believe in, and which they all have, in some shape or form, in 
their houses. They also have the skulls of goats, numbers of 
human skulls, turtle shells, chicken feathers, lots of long strings, or 
bits of rag, hanging in strings and tied in different knots and 
loops, and plenty of dirty grease poured over them. 

This was a big chief. He dressed like a gentleman, in 
English clothes, and was my first escort to the Presbyterian 
Church. 

He had a train of servants behind him to carry his umbrella, 
which was large, and of different colors of silk; blue, yellow, 
green, red, etc., and a biass knob on top as big as a good sized tea- 
cup; two men could manage it quite well: then they would take 
turns. Ironbar went to church nearly every Sunday; and yet he 
was as full of superstition and heathenism as if he had never 
heard the Gospel. 

At the third yard, buried at the threshold, there was a human 
skull, over which one must walk to get in. Oh, what horror! a 
human graveyard. But what about all you have not seen and 
heard of, of horrors? I said, " Oh, Lord, how long shall the dread- 
ful night of heathenism last ? Oh. that the day may break, and 
that right early. Amen." 

At the fourth yard, as we passed the king's palace, to go to 
the court where his wives stayed, we looked in and saw the table, 
on which were bottles of champagne and brandy; and some eight 
or more of the lords, and princes, and rulers gathered around, 
while their servants stood ready to do their bidding; and as they 
drank their wine and smoked, I thought of King Belshazzar and 
the writing on the wall. May God hasten the time when this 
kingdom will be taken from them and given to the King of kings. 



380 



Autobiography of 



At the fifth yard we saw the queen; a great, fat woman, with 
most regular features, handsome brown skin, beautiful hands and 
arms, and very small feet; her hair was done up in beautiful style; 
she was very dignified, and tried to be pleasant, but I could see 
she was in no sympathy with Jesus. I ventured to give her a few 
words, sang a hymn, and left her. She was in full costume; about 
three yards of beautiful cloth about her loins was all she had on! 
She has slaves by the hundred. 

A few days before one had hanged himself, supposed to have 
been kidnapped and brought in, and the horror of slavery there is, 
to many, as it was here, and they often kill themselves, by drown- 
ing and hanging; his head was cut olf and taken to the queen as a 
relic. Some of the wives are girls of about fourteen. 

Duketown, Old Calabar, June 20th, 1887. This is a great day 
in England and the Provinces; the jubilee of the fifty years' reign 
of the good queen. I should like to have been in England, and 
could have gone; but I thought how many poor missionaries would 
have been glad to be there, just for a little change and rest, as well 
as to be at the great royal anniversary, but their work, and, with 
some, the want of means, kept them from going; and I thought, 
though I needed the rest so much, and the doctor had told me I 
would need to get out of the country, and have an entire change 
of climate, before I could hope to be much better, that it was 
right to deny myself this great and only privilege that I should 
ever have of seeing such a demonstration, and in doing it the Lord 
blessed me, and I trust will answer the little prayer He put in my 
heart for the queen, whose reign for fifty years has been of such a 
beautiful, high moral, Christian character. May her life and 
health be very precious in His sight; may she live long, to be a 
blessing to all nations; and when her reign is ended here, may she 
reign with Him, who is the Lord of all nations, and out of all has 
redeemed unto Himself, by the blood of Christ, kings and priests 
unto God. Amen. Amen. 

Clay- Ashland, Liberia, West Africa, July 12th, 1888. For a 
long time there has been a good deal of interest manifested among 
a number of Christians, on the subject of personal holiness; and 
since the revival, which has been going on for the last three 
weeks, this interest has been intensified, and under consideration 
at different times with several of the members, and with some of 
the leading Stewards of the church. 



Amanda Smith. 



381 



I suggested the propriety of having a stated meeting once a 
month, for the promotion of holiness, and for the benefit of those 
who were specially and definitely interested on the subject. And 
in order that the object of this meeting might be better under- 
stood, we thought it well to organize it into an association, to be 
called the " Clay- Ashland Holiness Association.'' It has the 
endorsement of the pastor of the church. Rev. James Cooper, and 
also has the benefit of his own personal experience of the blessing 
of entire sanctification. 

It was decided that the pastor should appoint an assistant to 
Sister Martha Ricks, as she always had an assistant at her Friday 
afternoon prayer meeting; and then Sister Ricks might call any- 
one else to assist whom she might choose. 

In order that we might help each other more, spiritually, we 
thought it advisable to suggest that we be very watchful, very - 
prayerful, and devoted to God; and endeavor to lead a life of self- 
denial and fear of God, and, as much as lay within us, to live con- 
sistent lives, and by all means endeavor to avoid the appearance of 
evil; in praying for the blessing, be definite; in testimony after 
receiving, be definite and God will strengthen your heart, and 
strengthen your faith; stand together; and, with a firm faith in 
God, you may not fear; but trust ye in the Lord forever, for in the 
Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength. Amen. 

I had prayed, and asked the Lord for guidance about going, 
and had been disappointed so often: then I had been clown with a 
severe attack of fever, and was quite weak; but the opportunity 
came to go to Cape Mount, and I thought I would go. Mr. Sher- 
man's boat was going up, and they told me I could go in it. As 
I opened my Bible, my eyes fell on these words, which I took as 
an assurance to start with: " I shall not die, but live, and declare 
the goodness of God." 

After we had got started, about three o'clock in the after- 
noon, a storm came upon us about nine o'clock at night, and raged 
fearfully; it seemed every minute that the boat would be capsized; 
a strong head wind, and we were dreadfully sick; I was so sick I 
could hardly hold up my head. 

But all the time, as the little boat dashed to and fro, and it 
seemed every moment as if it would go to pieces, the Lord kept my 
heart very calm by repeatedly bringing these words to my mind: 
" I shall not die, but live, and declare the goodness of God." And 
so it did come to pass. Hallelujah! 



382 



Autobiography of 



On the 3rd of June, 1889, I made another attempt to go to 
Cape Mount, just before leaving Liberia for America. This was 
my last opportunity, and as I had visited all the other towns in the 
republic, I felt I must see Cape Mount. As this was a very beautiful 
day, I went around to see if I could get some good sister to go with 
me. I asked several, but as it was not a very pleasant time of 
year to go, no one was able to go with me. I went to Mrs. Sherman 
and asked her if she could not suggest someone. She said she 
thought Amanda McCrumicly would go. 

Amanda was a good friend of -mine, and had a sister who 
lived in Cape Mount, and as she was in charge of Mrs. President 
Robert's house, in Monrovia, I thought probably she might be 
able to go; so I called and asked her, and at once she consented. 
She was not a very strong body, but very brave hearted; I could 
not have got anybody from Monrovia who was better suited for 
this trip, (for we had an open boat), than was Miss McCrumid} 7 . 

I went to Mr. Isaac Dixon, who. was a large trader in Mon- 
rovia, and also had a business at Cape Mount, and asked him if 
he could send me up in one of his boats; of course I was to pay 
for it. He was very kind, and gave me a good boat and a crew of 
his best men. We were to start on Tuesday morning. Monday 
afternoon, about four o'clock, the clouds gathered black, and we 
were threatened with a dreadful storm. As I looked out and saw 
the clouds, my faith quivered just a little, but I looked up to the 
Lord, and in a moment all was calm. On Tuesday morning, June 
fourth, the Lord had confirmed the assurance in my heart that I 
was to go. At six a. m., the clouds were black and lowering, the 
thunder rolled, the winds blew, but my faith never wavered; that 
was my time to go. So about eight o'clock my friend, Amanda, 
came, and said: " Are you going? " 

" Oh, yes," I said. A few moments later Mrs. Dixon sent 
her little boy to say for me not to go; she was afraid we would 
have a great storm. But I said, " No, this is my time to go." 

I found when I got down to the waterside that Mr. Dixon's 
heart had failed him; he was in hopes I would decide not to go. 
But they built a kind of booth over the boat to protect us a little 
from the sun and storm, and off we started for Cape Mount. We 
were out all day and all night and reached Cape Mount at seven 
o'clock next morning. We praised the Lord again and again. 

Thursday, June 6th. Made several calls, and preached to a 



Amanda Smith. 



383 



full house at night, and the Lord gave me great liberty m speak- 
ing, and helped the people. 

Friday, 7th. We arranged a hammock, and walked three 
miles to a new settlement to visit the emigrants; and of all the sad 
sights I ever saw, it was those poor people; how my heart ached 
for them; destitute, and sick, and ignorant; there was not a house 
among them, that I visited, that was anything like comfortable. 

Saturday. 8th. I visited at Mrs. Briley's station, the Episco- 
pal Mission. This lady was a white missionary, and has sp<mt a 
number of years in Africa, and I suppose will be there the balance 
of her days. This used to be a very prosperous station; but from 
what I saw of it. it seemed to lack about everything, and need 
about everything. 

Sunday. 9th. I preached twice, and addressed the Sabbath 
School. 

Monday, 10th, Six a. m. We are off to our open boats again 
to Monrovia. Out all night. Oh. how good the Lord is. A storm 
overtakes us and threatens us heavily. As I looked up to my 
Father, God, and called on Him to help us, He answered me speed- 
ily, and in a little while the wind seemed to subside, and the 
clouds passed away. 

Tuesday, 11th. Still in the boat, and sick: but the morning 
is lovely. Praise the Lord. We get to Monrovia about eleven 
o'clock. 

I am often asked, " What is the religion of Africa?" Well, 
where I was they had no real form of religion. They were what 
we would call devil worshipers. They say God is good; He don't 
make any humbug for them; so there is no need of praying to 
Him. But they pray, and dance, and cook large dishes of rice 
and fish, and set it out of a night so that the Devil can have a good 
meal. They think if they feed him well, and keep on good terms 
with him, he will give them good crops and good luck, and keep 
away sickness. If smallpox, or any sickness of that kind comes to 
their town, they say it is because somebody has made the Devil mad. 

While at Baraka with Bishop Taylor, I had my first experience 
of their laws and customs. Sister Betty Tubman, Aunt Julia 
Fletcher, and I, went, in company with the Bishop, to open a sta- 
tion at Baraka. It is a large, native town, and years ago the 
Methodist Church had a flourishing station right near this samf 
town. 



384 



Autobiography of 



As Bishop Taylor had come to Africa to help my people by 
establishing missions and schools, I felt it was my duty to do all I 
could to help, and stand by the Bishop, and do what I could by 
looking after the little necessities. 

I had a large canteen, as they call them in Africa; we would 
say lunch box here; so I would fill it with food, the best I could 
get; I would bake a large pone of bread, and get some tinned meats, 
and a ham, when I could. Five dollars was about the cheapest a 
ham could be got for at Cape Palmas, but even at that they didn't 
have to hang on the hands of the merchants; for when it comes to 
food, the Liberians are not stingy, and ham is not a rarity, though 
they don't have them every da} 7 ; but generally manage when they 
want them specially. They can often get things of this kind, that 
are expensive, in trade, with coffee or palm oil. But, of course, I 
had nothing of this kind, and had always to pay cash for what I 
got at the stores. 

Then I had a little kerosene stove that I took with me, and 
cocoa, and coffee, and a tin of condensed milk, and biscuits, or 
hardtack, for bread don't last very long; if you attempt to keep it, 
it will sour or mould; so we generally use it up while it is fresh, 
and fall back on hardtack. 

The Lord was so good that I generally had a little cash by me. 
But often it was not a question of cash, and you couldn't get the 
things you needed; they were not to be had. But it was wonderful 
how I learned to manage and get on. It is said that necessity is 
the mother of invention; and Africa is certainly the place where 
it can be developed. 

We used to get up in the morning early; I would boil some 
water and make the Bishop a cup of cocoa or coffee, and so give 
him an early breakfast. 

The natives were always kind and hospitable; they would have 
their meal about nine or ten o'clock; but we would be very faint 
by that time, not being used to it; and, as the Bishop was a very 
early riser, I knew it was best for him to have something to eat 
before that time. And then I always took at least a cup of tea, or 
something before it was late in the day. 

The natives would bring in, perhaps, a chicken. They didn't 
scald them and pick them as we do; they would kill them and 
swing them over a fire; and, of course, all the feathers they didn't 
get off, we would have to take off ourselves; then they would bring 



Amanda Smith, 



385 



great calabashes of rice, and pepper, for they use everything very 
hot with pepper; that was one of the things I never could get used 
to, the hot pepper. But the dear old Bishop would help himself 
to the rice and fowl, and goat, for they would often kill a goat in 
the morning and cook it for breakfast. 

We would set a box in the middle of the floor, and I would 
spread a cloth over it, and they would set these calabashes on, and 
we would sit down. Sometimes they would bring in three or four 
calabashes; we would have to eat some out of each one; they 
wouldn't feel pleasant at all if we sent one back without eating out 
of it; so we generally had plenty, if we could only eat it; one often 
has to acquire the taste before he can really like it. I was in 
Africa a whole year before I really enjoyed or relished my food. 
Everything seems to taste different: but some get used to it very 
quickly, and others take some time. I always had plenty to eat in 
Africa. I never saw a day but what I had plenty, though it was 
not always what my appetite relished. 

I thought when we got to Baraka that we w r ould make a fire 
outside, and we would have a real picnic time. We would cook 
everything the way we wanted to cook it, just as they do at pic- 
nics; for Aunt Julia and Betty, were both good cooks, and on that 
line I was expecting just to show the Bishop how nicely we could 
treat him. 

But, lo, when we got there we were not allowed to make a fire 
outside at all; whatever cooking was done, must be done in the 
native house w r e occupied. Xo fire was allowed outside, except a 
kind of kiln, where they burned their pottery — all sorts of vessels 
made of clay, which are put in the fire and burned. 

It is wonderful how clever they are in those things; they make 
all their cooking utensils; we would call it earthen ware; some of 
them are very pretty; they are strong and well made, and of all 
sizes; jars that will hold one, two, three and five gallons of water; 
then there are smaller utensils. 

We stayed in the king's best house; a large, native house; mud 
floor, but dry; no windows, no chimney; there was a space in the 
floor where we made the fire, and did the cooking, and the smoke 
would ascend and go all through the thatch. I don't know how I 
stood it, but I got on beautifully. When the wood was wet and 
would smoke a good deal, I w r ould suffer with smoke in my eyes; 
but, somehow, I have an idea that smoke was healthy in Africa! 



386 



Autobiography op 



The custom was that every house in the town in the evening 
had a little fire outside in front of the door, and many times a 
piece of tobacco and a pipe would be laid by it; that was for any 
of their friends who were dead, or the Devil could come and light 
his pipe; (of course they suppose the Devil smokes); they thought 
it was a good thing, and would please him. This was why they 
would not allow us to build a fire outside. I thought it was non- 
sense; but they told me I had better not persist. So, when I sent 
word to the king, and he said, no, we could not make a fire out- 
side, and when I took a walk myself all through the town, just 
about dusk, and saw, sure enough, by every hut a little bunch of 
wood that had been burned and was ready to light again, I just 
did as I was told, and did my cooking in my own native house. 

While we were there the old king's head wife, who was the 
queen wife, was tried and condemned as a witch. That meant 
that she was to die by drinking sassy wood. 

One of the other wives of the king accused the head wife of 
bewitching her child. The child was a girl about fourteen years 
old, and while in the casava farm digging casavas she was bitten 
by what is called the casava snake, which is as poisonous as the 
cobra of India. When this child died they said it was because 
the head wife had bewitched her; and when any one is accused 
of being a witch she must die. 

This poor woman ran away and was gone three months, to her 
people. And being the king's head wife it was what they called 
a great " shame palaver;" anything to happen to the king's wife 
— that was very bad indeed. 

As the king's wife was of a very high family, they all came 
together, and it took them three months before they could settle 
it. But it was settled and she had decided to drink the sassy 
wood. 

She had two sons, splendid young men; they were tall and 
graceful, just like their father, the king; they were very bright 
young men, and one of them could speak good English. So they 
told us on Friday that the mother was to drink sassy wood on Sat- 
urday again; she had to drink it twice. So we asked them to come 
and tell us when the time came, and they said they would. 

The mother stopped at another little native town about a half 
mile away from this big town. So on Saturday morning about 
eight o'clock the young man came and told us. Aunt Julia had 



Amanda Smith. 387 

gone out to look for some wood; so Betty and I went with the 
young man. Betty Tubman could understand the native language 
and talk it very well. 

Just as we got to this little town we found the men and the 
woman going to the place of execution. The town was enclosed 
by a stick fence. The old woman walked through the gate into 
the open space just outside. 

She was a woman not very tall, but very black, beautiful 
limbs, beautifully built, small feet, as a lady would have, and 
beautiful hands and arms; her head was shaved and something 
black rubbed over it; and she had a little grass hip cloth like a 
little skirt just around her loins. 

As we passed through the gate I thought of the Lord Jesus, 
who had told us to go forth bearing his reproach. Outside the gate 
there was a kind of a grove, and an open space just beyond this 
grove. When they got to the place they stopped. There were 
four or five old men, and two young men. 

The old men stood as witnesses. They set down a mortar. 
One had a calabash, and another carried the sassy wood, which is 
a liquid decoction. I don't know as any one has ever found what 
the composition of this sassy wood really is; but I am told it is a 
mixture of certain barks. There is a tree there which grows very 
tall, called the sassy wood tree; but there is something mixed with 
this which is very difficult to find out, and the natives do not tell 
what it is. They say that it is one of their medicines that they 
use to carry out their law for punishing witches; so you cannot 
find out what it is. 

Though it was so warm, I felt myself get cold as I looked at 
the scene. My heart seemed to stop beating. Oh, how I prayed 
to God to save that woman. We couldn't do anything to help her; 
her husband couldn't help her; her sons couldn't help her; her 
people couldn't help her. Xo, she was accused of being a witch, 
and she must pay the penalty; and the penalty was to drink the 
sassy wood. If she throws it up she has gained the case. 

Sometimes they do throw it up, and then they stand very high; 
they are raised to a higher state of dignity than ever they held 
before. So I prayed for the poor, dear woman, that God would 
make her throw it up. 

I thought once I could not bear to see it; but then I held 
on. I remember how I clutched the limb of a tree near by when 



888 



Autobiography of 



she was about to take it; and I held on and prayed. Her son 
stood with us and looked at his mother drink the first dose; and 
then ran away. The two young men dipped this decoction out of 
the mortar into the calabash, and set it on the ground, and then 
she had to pick it up and drink it. 

When they had filled the basin she stood and looked at it; and 
then picked up three pebbles, and said something like a little 
prayer; then she struck on the side of the basin. I could under- 
stand when she said " Niswa, Oh, Niswa," which was to say 
"Oh, God." I didn't know what else she said. But she struck 
one of the stones on the side of the dish, threw the other in it, 
and the other one she threw away. Then she drank the sassy 
wood. She had two gallons to drink. 

I turned to Betty and said: "What does she say, Betty?" 
And she told me the part that I could not understand. The whole 
prayer was this: "Oh, Niswa, if I have made witch, and this 
child has died, when I drink this sassy wood I must not throw it 
up. But if I have not made witch so that this child has died, then 
I must throw up the sassy wood." 

So that was what she said all the time she was drinking the 
sassy wood. After she had swallowed the first dose they dipped out 
another basinful. Oh, I trembled. I said, "Lord, do make her 
throw it up." And just as she was going to stoop down to lift up 
the second basinful, I saw her give her shoulders a little twitch, 
and open her mouth, and if you ever saw a water plug in the 
street throw out water — she threw up that sassy wood, in a per- 
fect stream! 

Well, I could have shouted. I said, "Thank God." But I 
didn't say it very loud, for those fellows looked vengeance, and I 
was afraid they would drive us away. 

Then she drank the second basinful, and then the third, and 
threw it up, and she was victor. My! didn't I come home out of 
that place jumping? I cannot describe how I felt. 

The next morning was Sunday morning; and about eight 
o'clock we heard such singing and playing and beating of drums, 
and we wondered what in the world was up. We looked out, and 
here came through the town all the women, and this same woman, 
the king's wife, with two escorts on either side, and beautifully 
dressed; she had a handsome country cloth, with all sorts of colors, 
like Joseph's coat, wrapped about her; she was bathed and 



Amanda Smith. 



389 



greased; she had rings in her ears, and bracelets on her wrists; 
her fingers were covered with rings, and rings on her toes and 
ankles. She looked beautiful! 

They have some kind of grass they dye black, and it looks 
very much like hair; and she had on a head dress of this, beauti- 
fully curled, and she looked as beautiful as she could be. Then 
she had a great, big umbrella, red, and blue, and green and yellow 
striped. Oh, but she was a swell! And they took her through 
the town; they danced and sang; children, little boys and girls, 
and women. 

The next day, on Monday, the men burned powder, as they 
called it. About five o'clock in the morning we heard a great gun 
firing. We didn't know but war had begun. But it was the 
men's day for their jollification over the victory the king's wife 
had gained. 

I shall never forget how the poor old king came to me and 
wanted me to drink wine. 

"No, king," I said to him, "you know I am a temperance 
woman. I no drink wine." 

He seemed to be quite indignant. He said, "What is the 
matter? When my woman no die you can't drink wine a little 
bit with me when my heart is glad 'cause my woman no die? " 

" Well," I said, " king, I am very glad, and I did pray, and 
believe God helped your woman so she no die. But myself I no 
drink wine." 

Then as he went to turn away, almost with disgust, I said to 
him, " I tell you, king, I give you cup cocoa. I make it for you. 
So you drink cocoa with me." 

" Yes," he said, then he smiled. 

So I went to work and made a nice bowl of cocoa, and put 
sugar and condensed milk in it, and gave him a hardtack and 
some meat, which pleased him greatly. So we were friends. 

The poor women of Africa, like those of India, have a hard 
time. As a rule, they have all the hard work to do. They have 
to cut and carry all the wood, carry all the water on their heads, 
and plant all the rice. The men and boys cut and burn the bush, 
with the help of the women; but sowing the rice, and planting the 
casava, the women have to do. 

You will often see a great, big man walking ahead, with noth- 
ing in his hand but a cutlass (as they always carry that or a 



390 



Autobiography of 



spear), and a woman, his wife, coming on behind, with a great 
big child on her back, and a load on her head. 

No matter how tired she is, her lord would not think of bring- 
ing her a jar of water, to cook his supper with, or of beating the 
rice; no, she must do that. A great big boy would not bring 
water for his mother; he would say: 

" Boy no tote water; that be woman's work." 

If they live with missionaries, or Liberians, or anyone outside 
of their own native people, then they will do such things; but not 
for one another. 

The moment a girl child is born ; she belongs to somebody. 
The father, who has a son, makes it the highest aim of his life to 
see that his son has a wife; so he settles, and begins to pay a 
dowry for a girl for his son. Sometimes they are but a few 
months old, when you will see them with their betrothal jewels on. 

If the fellow who buys the girl is well off, she will have about 
her little waist a thick roll of beads; sometimes five or six strings 
together; or she will have bracelets on her little wrists, sometimes 
of brass, sometimes only made of common iron by the native 
blacksmith; she will have the same on her ankles, with a little 
tinkle in it, like a bell, so it makes a noise when she walks. 

As they grow up, they have their tastes, and their likes and 
dislikes. The marriageable age is from thirteen to fourteen, and 
sometimes younger. All these years the boy's father, or the man 
himself, is paying on the girl. That is why it is hard to get the 
girls. It is the girls that bring big money; so the more girls a 
father has, that much richer he is. 

Girls who are bought with a bullock are high toned; that is 
about the highest grade. Then the next is brass kettles, and cloth 
and beads. The third is more ordinary; tobacco, cloth, powder, 
and a little gin is not objectionable. To all of these he can put as 
much more as he likes; but what I have named are the principal 
things used in buying a native girl for a wife. 

Poor things, they are not consulted; they have no choice in 
the matter. If they don't like the man, they are obliged to go 
with him anyway, no matter how illy he may treat them; and 
sometimes they are cruelly treated. But their own father could 
not protect them. The laws in this are very strict. A man's wife 
is his wife, and no one dare interfere. 

One morning at Sinoe, about six o'clock — I generally got up 




Frances, My Native Bassa Gikl. 



Amanda Smith. 



391 



at that time, and often earlier, especially when washing: five or 
six o'clock in the morning was the most beautiful part of the day 
in Africa, especially if one had a big day's washing or ironing to 
do, or anything else; it is very pleasant and cool then, but as the 
sun rises it gets stronger, until sometimes it is almost unbearable — 
I heard someone crying most piteously in the street, and there 
seemed to be a number of voices shouting and talking; but mingled 
with all I heard this deep, piteous crying. 

I went and looked out of the window, and there was a poor- 
girl, I suppose about fifteen or sixteen years of age, and as pretty 
a colored girl as I ever saw; she had a dark brown skin, was of 
medium size, and beautifully formed; her hair was done up pret- 
tily, as they can do it, and her hands and arms were as plump and 
as delicately shaped as if she had been born a queen. 

There were five or six men, and the same number of boys. 
The old man was as ugly as a monkey; he was her husband; he 
had hold of her arm, and was jerking her along, and beating her: 
then the boys would run up and give her a slap on her bare 
shoulders, which you could hear quite plainly. 

I ran down stairs and called Mr. R., and begged him to go 
and see if he could do anything for the poor thing. He said it was 
a woman palaver, he supposed, and that is the biggest kind of a 
palaver in Africa, and nobody can help settle them, but them- 
selves. However, I begged him so hard that he went. 

He came back in about an hour, and said she was the wife of 
this horrid, old man, and she had run away from him because he 
had beaten her, and had been gone several weeks; and these other 
men had found her, and had held her for the old man, but she did 
not want to go to him. 

"Well," I said, " can't anything be done to help her? " 

"No," he said, " there is only one thing; if some one of these 
younger men would coax the old man to sell her, and he consented 
and they paid him a good dowry, they could have her. But if 
the old man was contrary, and should refuse, he would torture 
her to death right in the presence of her own father, and he could 
not help her." 

But he said the old man was rather good natured, and he 
thought one of these young fellows would buy her. 

Sometimes these old fellows do these tricks to get money. I 
really hope they did buy her. 



392 



Autobiography of Amanda Smith. 



Now that is the reason it is so much better for the missionary 
to buy the girls, at the price of a bullock, which is twenty or 
twenty-five dollars; that is the price of a girl. And they are very 
honorable in this. If a girl has been bought by a missionary, she 
is free as long as she lives; no one will ever claim her; but if other- 
wise, she can be claimed years after, by anyone of her people who 
chooses to make trouble. Even if she was married and settled it 
would not save her, if she could not say she was bought. 

I was not asked to pay anything for my Frances, a Bassa girl, 
though that was their custom. Her father gave her to me, and 
so did Mrs. Brown, to whom he had first given her, without any 
dowry. Her mother died, and I told Mr. Brown if her people 
wanted her, they must pay me two bullocks; for it had cost me 
that with the care and trouble I had had with her. After that I 
never heard any more about it. 

The boys are free; no dowry for them. They can go and live 
with missionaries, marry and settle, just as they like. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 



HOW I CAME TO TAKE LITTLE BOB — TEACHING HIM TO READ — 
HIS CONVERSION — SOME OF HIS TRIALS, AND HOW HE MET 
THEM — BOB GOES TO SCHOOL. 

When I first went to Africa I saw there was much to do, and 
I felt I could do but little. At that time there was no real med- 
ical doctor within twenty or thirty miles of Monrovia. Of course 
there were plenty of patent medicines to be had, such as pills and 
quinine, and other helps. And then the natives helped in fever 
cases, and all kinds of sickness, by the use of herbs, which, when 
skillfully administered, as many know how to do, in my opinion 
are much better than doctors' medicines, except quinine. 

But I had never been where a doctor could not be called in a 
case of emergency. 

So I thought if I could get a nice little boy I would train him 
for a missionary, and a doctor as well. I saw how he might do 
much good. So I felt led to pray, and ask the Lord to open the 
way that I might get a boy. 

I saw three boys that I liked. They lived in different Liber- 
ian families. 

One was the son of a king, who lived with Mrs. Crusoe at 
Hartford. He was a nice lad, and I would have liked to have him. 

Another was at Edina, Bassa. He lived with Mrs. Moore. 

The other lived with Mrs. Horris, at Lower Buchanan, in 
Bassa. 

They were very bright, smart boys, and only needed a little 
help, as 1 thought. But none of these parties would consent to my 
taking them. They wanted I should take a Liberian. But I did 
not feel led just that way, and I plead with them for one of the 
boys. But I could not get them; so then I gave it up. I thought 
the Lord knew my heart, and what I wanted to do was for His 
glory only. 

(393) 



394 



Autobiography of 



In 1887, while at Cape Palmas, though I had given up all hope 
or desire of getting a boy, little Bob and a little playmate of his 
used to come to Mrs. Harmon's. They were very little fellows, 
and as I did my own housekeeping, and so often had bits of food 
left, I would call these children and give them to them. My! 
they were pleased; and I became very fond of them, and often 
would talk to them as best I could. I could not understand them 
so well as they could understand me. Ma Harmon could talk 
the Gredebo language just like a native, and they almost idolized 
Mr. Harmon. They knew they lost a true friend when he was taken. 

Ma Harmon had told these children that they must always 
speak to me; say " Good morning, Mammy." 

So one day I was going downtown, and little Bob and his 
friend were hanging on the gate as I passed. When they saw me 
coming they began shouting, "Good morning, Mammy! Good 
morning, Mammy!" 

I went up and put my hand on Bob's head. I always admired 
him so much; he was so black, and his skin was so soft and 
smooth, like a kid glove. 

" Well," I said, " are you fine boy to-day? '* 

"Yes." 

He understood what I said. 

" True, you be fine too much," I said. 

To a native child that means everything we mean when we 
say, " You are a good boy," or a " nice boy." 

My! they were so pleased. I had noticed, as I was passing, a 
man and woman who stood talking together; and when I had gone 
a few steps away the man called out, " Mammy!" 

I turned, and he said, " Mammy," (for you must know that all 
foreigners and Liberians are called 'Mammy' and ' Daddy;' and 
in the sense it is used in America, one would feel like drawing up 
their shoulders sometimes; but when the natives use it, it is as 
we would use 4 Mr. ' and Mrs. '), "I want you to take that pick'n and 
teach him God palavar," pointing to little Bob. "Myself, I be 
fool; I no sabe God. I don't want my pick'n to be fool all same 
like myself." 

" Jack," I said, " is that your pick'n? " 

"Yes." 

" For true? You be his daddy? " 

"Yes. I want you to take him; all that place you live to 



Amanda Smith. 



395 



come when you catch England and big America, you teach him, 
so he can sabe God proper.'' 

"Well, Jack,"' I said, " myself don't be well just now; dem 
fever humbug me too much. I be weak plenty. So when dat 
steamer live to catch here, with Bishop Taylor's missionaries, 
myself I go down the coast a little bit. Jack, why not give him 
to some of the Liberian people? He will teach him." 

" No, Mammy," he said, "if you lef him on his hand, he no 
sabe nothing.' ' 

And, strange as it may seem, there was much more truth than 
poetry in this statement. 

This was on Tuesday; and on Saturday the looked for steamer 
arrived, with Bishop Taylor's second part}' of thirteen or more 
missionaries for the Congo. 

I had been down with fever for three or four days, and was 
very weak. I hardly knew how to get ready. But the kind 
friends came in, and my old standby, Betty Tubman, and Rosetta 
Cole, took hold and helped me get my things together; and the 
dear old Bishop, God bless him, got hold of my trunk and helped 
out with it, then rolled up my things in the rug and carried th-^m 
down, and I can hear him say now: 

' ' Come on, Amanda. ' ' 

Oh! but wasn't I weak! He saw and ivaew it, and I could see 
the great sympathy in his eyes. But, Oh! he did not know how 
much he helped me when he went ahead and said, " Now come on, 
Amanda." I said, " Lord, help me." And He did, and we 
reached the boat. They helped me in, and we were soon off to 
the steamer. 

Now aboard the steamer. Thank God. How nice to see a 
lot of home folks, and all so happy. I seemed to gather strength. 
We had a pleasant time. 

I was away for months, and returned with but little gained, 
if any; for my trip of seven days from Calabar to Cape Palmas 
was so sad that whatever I had gained I lost, and was so weak I 
could scarcely get out of the boat. 

"Well," I said, "it is no use; I see I have got to go home." 

For three years I had been planning and hoping, but could 
not seem to get clear light from above, and I was so sure God 
Himself had sent me to Africa that I felt I dare not leave without 
His permission; although the doctors at La^os and old Calabar 



396 



Autobiography of 



both said that I should come home. So I kept my few things 
packed so as to be ready for a homeward steamer that would stop 
at Cape Palmas and at Monrovia, for I must stop there for my 
little girl, Frances. 

I waited one week and no steamer stopped. Two weeks, 
three weeks, and no homeward steamer stopped. How tiresome, 
But then, what will you do? and what could you do? 

I worked away, as usual, doing all I could by day and night. 
The latter part of the third week brought a letter, by an outward 
bound steamer, to Brother Pratt, Bishop Taylor's agent, that 
thirteen missionaries would be out soon, giving the date that they 
would leave Liverpool; and the Bishop had asked me to help 
Brother Pratt in looking after the missionaries when they arrived. 
Brother Pratt came to me and said; 

"Now, Ma, you can't go. These missionaries are coming, and 
the Bishop said he wanted you to help get them settled." 

So I felt that delay to me was of the Lord, though I seemed to 
be of so little use. But, though I say it myself, I really don't 
know what Brother Pratt or the missionaries would have done if 
it had not been for the little help I was able to give; and this, I 
believe, dear Miss Whitfield and Miss McNeil would say, too. 

" Well," I said to Brother Pratt, "all right; I'm in for it." 

So we went to planning as best we could. Jack was not home 
when we first got back. So I thought it was all over about taking 
the child. But one day I met Jack in the street. 

"Mammy," he said, "howdy; I glad for see you. You be 
well now." 

" Thank you, Jack, but myself don't be well. Weak, weak, 
all time." 

"Mammy, I be sorry for you. You goin' take that pick'n? " 

"Well, Jack, that boy be very small boy; he live to give some- 
body plenty trouble; small boy, so." 

So I spoke to him in what we call broken English. He could 
speak it well, and understand it very well if you would break it up. 

"You see, Jack, if I take him I must be all same as his 
mammy. All same like if I born him myself. My heart must be 
big like his own mammy's heart; and this fever bother me all 
time; so I am weak." 

"Well," he said, with a sad face, " Mammy you promised to 
take him." 



Amanda Smith* 



397 



"Well, Jack, I go home; I look my head; then I will speak to 
God, and if my heart lay down I will call you." 

So he said "all right," and went. Several times he came to 
see me to see if I had got light. 

44 No, not yet." 

He and his wife came, and I still said 44 No." 

So I said one night, 44 Now, Lord, this must be settled. I 
must say something to these people when they come again." 

Then I prayed, and asked the Lord to show me His will in the 
matter. 4 4 Oh! Lord, Thou knowest I have no money to support 
this child if I take him; and I don't want to take the care and re- 
sponsibility of this child, with nothing to help myself, or him. 
But if Thou dost want me to take him, and wilt make it clear that 
it is Thy will, and I should do it, it will be all right; and I know 
Thou wilt help me to take care of him. Now, Lord, make it clear 
what I must do. I will wait until Thou dost speak to me." 

Then a few moments' quiet, as I knelt before Him. And these 
words came to me, clear: 

44 Is not Ethiopia stretching out her hands to God?" 

44 Yes, Lord." 

44 Cannot you help a little?" 

44 Lord, Thou knowest I am very weak, and I don't know what 
I can do." 

Then these words came clear and distinct: 44 You do what 
you can, and where you leave off, God will raise up somebody to 
do the rest." 

44 Well," I said, 44 that is reasonable, and I will trust the Lord, 
and take the child, and do the best I can." 

In a few days Jack and wife, Bob's own mother, came, and 
brought Bob; and they both signed the agreement, relinquishing 
all claims. Bishop Taylor and -Betty Tubman were witnesses. 

The following is a copy of the agreement: 

Cape P almas, February' 16, 1888. 

We, Jack Smart or Na we, his father, and We a de, his mother, 
do give our son, Bob, to Mrs. Amanda Smith to raise and educate 
as her own child. And we relinquish all claim to him from this 
time forth. Jack Smart (his X mark). 

We a de (her X mark). 

Wm. Taylor, Bishop. / 
Elizabeth Tubman, \ * itnesses ' 



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Autobiography of 



Now there was Bob; a little, naked heathen, but he was as 
happy as a prince. 

His mother had given him his bath in the river; so I gave him 
a nice red kerchief to put on around his loins, and he was dressed! 
A day or two more, and I had made his first pants, out of a half 
yard of calico. 

When he got them on, oh! if you had seen him strut! He was 
the proudest little darkey that ever got into pants, and calico at 
that! 

Next thing was his lesson. Mrs. Margaret Davis, Foxrock, 
my ever faithful, untiring friend, had sent me a box, and in it 
were some A, B, C cards, and several little primers. 

I had given them all away but one little primer, and one card; 
so I must begin my work at once; for I was so miserable I thought 
I could not live long, and the little I could do, I must do quickly. 
I prayed the Lord to help me, and bless Bob, and help him to learn 
quickly. I thought if I could get him so he could read the Bible 
for himself, that was about all I could hope to do. 

In two weeks he could say his A, B, C's, and knew every letter. 

One day he got a little stubborn, and did not want to say his 
lesson. I coaxed him, and reasoned, but he had " spottie " on him; 
he would not learn. I saw that would not help any. I thought, 
"Well, I cannot give it up now; so I must doctor him a little bit." 
So I went out and got a little switch; when he saw it he said; 

" Oh! I can learn; I can say it." 

" All right," I said; so he did; and his lesson was all right. 

Now the next. I had no little spelling primers, nor could any- 
thing of the kind have been got in the republic anywhere, at that 
time, whatever there may be now. The little primer Mrs. Davis 
had sent was good, large reading, only. The first lesson began: 

" God is good. He gives us our food every day." 

Now Bob knew every letter when he saw it; so I had him use 
this book for a spelling book and a reader. After he would spell 
the word out, " G-o-d, i-s, g-o-o-d, h-e," etc., I would have him 
stand up on the floor, and I would give it out, "God," he would 
spell; "is," " good," and so on. 

Finally, I told him he must learn to read. I would start off 
myself to show him what I meant; then I would say, "Now, 
go on." 

He would begin, " G-o-" 



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399 



44 No, go on." 

"G-o-" 

"No." 

"God." 

44 Ah! that's right." 

44 I-s." 

44 No." 

44 I-s." 

44 No." 

44 Is, ? he would read. 

44 Ah! that's right. Goon." 

I felt he caught the idea of what it was to read. And so he 
went on. And in six months he had learned to read a little, and 
spell most of the words, though he did not know what they all 
meant; but I stuck to him, and prayed the Lord to help him. 

I do not know how old he was when I took him, as the natives 
do not keep dates, as we do. The only thing I had to go by was 
his teeth; a child is about six 'years old when he cuts his back 
teeth; he was just cutting his back teeth when I took him, so I 
thought he was about six years old. 

He was short, and fat, and very strong. He had learned 
English remarkably fast, so that months before I brought him to 
England he had got so he could read in the Testament, and, at 
family prayers every morning, he and I would read verse about; 
and he could read almost as well as I could in the Testament when 
I brought him to England. 

The people were astonished. They could hardly believe that a 
little while before, he was a little, raw, naked heathen, and could 
speak but two words of English when I took him: " Good morn- 
ing, Mammy," and 44 Drink water." 

When he would want a drink he would take hold of my dress, 
and lead me where he could see the pitcher or pail of water, then 
he would say, "Mammy, drink water." 

Now, when all is considered, I don't believe there is a child in 
this country, born of Christian parents, that would have shown a 
capability beyond that child's. . It is nonsense to say that a native 
African is not capable of learning. 

It was in March. 1891. I had been invited to Folkston, 
England, to hold a mission. On my way from Southport to Folks- 
ton, we spent a day or two in London, with Mrs. Di Bordman, 



400 



Autobiography op 



who had arranged a nice reception for us at her home, Highbry, 
London. She had invited to meet us, Mrs. Hannah Smith, Mrs. 
Mark Guy Pierce, and a number of other friends. We had a 
blessed time of fellowship, and then we passed on to Folksfcon. 

I had arranged in April for Bob to go to school at Southport. 
I had become very much attached to him, so I felt I hardly knew 
how to let him go away from me, and yet, for his good, I knew I 
must do so. But I was anxious that he should become converted. 
I was very much burdened for him. I had taughx him all about 
the way, simply as I could, and he and I often prayed together. 
Dear little fellow! 

Sometimes when I would be so weak, when we would get down 
to pray, he would pray for me so earnestly, and say, "Oh! God, 
bless my ma. Make her well, so she can be strong, so she can walk 
about." 

I used to suffer a great deal with my back. So he would say, 
"Oh! Lord, oh! God, make my ma's back well." 

And then he loved to hear Bible stories. He would sit for 
hours and listen to anything you would say about Jesus. 

Before he could speak English at all, when at family prayer, 
he seemed to have such a love for the words " God," and "Jesus." 
He used to kneel beside me and those two words were all he could 
say in English. So, as we would kneel down, while someone would 
be praying, he would pound on the chair with his little hand, and 
say, "Oh! God. Oh! Jesus. Oh! God. Oh! Jesus." I could not 
understand what else he said, but there was something religious 
in him. 

One night I got greatly burdened for him, while at Folkston. 
I slept very little all night. Oh, how I prayed that God would 
save him. 

Next morning, at family prayers, just he and I, we read our 
chapter over, and I preached a little sermon to Bob, about an hour 
and a half long. I read, and explained, and illustrated, by what 
I knew he could understand, things he knew of in Africa. I 
took my time to explain it, so he could give it back to me in cor- 
rect answers to my questions, so that I knew he had clearly, in his 
mind what I tried to teach. 

"Now, Bob," I said to him, "you know that I have always 
told you that if you ask Jesus to do anything for you, you must 
believe He will do it." 



Amanda Smith. 



401 



" Yes," he said. 

"You know I never told you a lie, did I? " 
" No." 

"When I told you I was going to do something, I always did 
it, didn't I?" 
"Yes." 

"Well, just so you must believe Jesus. When you ask Him tc 
make your heart good, believe that He will do it, because He loves 
you, and wants you to be good. So now He can give you a new 
heart this morning, if you will just tell Him what you want, and 
just believe Him. and trust Him. Now, we will just kneel 
down, and you pray for yourself. Tell Jesus just what you want. 
Tell Him in your own way. just the best you know how." 

So we knelt down. Dear, little Bob! He waited for a few 
moments, thoughtfully and sincerely, and then he began to pray. 
He said; 

"Oh! God, I come to you. I beg you to make my heart good. 
Take all the bad out of my heart, so I won't lie: so I won't steal. 
Oh! God, put your good Spirit in my heart, so I can always obey 
my ma: so I can be good. I beg you. Jesus. I will believe you. 
Help me. For Jesus' sake. Amen." 

I felt sure God heard that little prayer, for my heart went 
with it: and when Bob stopped praying. I took hold of God. Oh, 
how I prayed, and how I believed. And I claimed Bob's conver- 
sion with him, that God had done what we asked Him. I felt 
peace in my heart, and assurance, and I rose up and we sang. 
Praise God! 

This was on Friday morning. In the afternoon I was invited 
to take a service at the Rev. Mr. Toke's church. He was an Epis- 
copalian clergyman, and a grand man of God, and was what they 
call in England " a Low Churchman." 

We had a wonderful meeting that afternoon. God gave me 
great liberty in speaking, from the 12th chapter of Romans. A 
number of people came to me at the close, and told me that they 
had received help, and blessing, and light, as they never had 
before. To God be the glory. 

On our way home we met a crowd of six or seven little boys, 
and they began to call out to Bob: 

"Oh, there goes a little black boy." 

And I began to pity Bob so. because I knew he was sensitive, 



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Autobiography of 



and I Knew how he hated to be looked at, and hear such remarks 
made. Of course he was unaccustomed to it. When in London, if 
he would be looking out of a window, and boys would come by and 
make remarks, he would get down on his knees to hide from them. 

I felt very sorry for him, and would tell him they were not 
accustomed to seeing little black boys. I was very weak, and 
they were taking me to my lodgings in a perambulator; and when 
I heard the boys call out to Bob, I began to say: "There, now, 
poor Bob." So I said: 

"Boys, boys; that little boy's name is Bob." 

"Oh, Bob, hello," they said; "Hello, Bob; how do you do?" 

Just then little Bob came running up to me, and said to me; 

"Oh, ma, the boys like to look at me, don't they?" 

" Yes, they are not accustomed to seeing little black boys, you 
know. There are not many in this country/' 

"Well," he said, "I don't mind if they do look at me now; 
since I told Jesus this morning, and he made my heart good, I 
don't care if they do look at me now." 

His face was beaming with delight; and I said: " I know Bob 
is changed. The old things have passed awa} r , and the things 
that he hated, he has begun to love." 

And the word from him in England now is, that he is a good 
boy, and trying to be a Christian. Why should it be thought a 
thing incredible, that God should convert a little heathen child? 
Amen. 

One day, while in Liverpool, Bob and I started down street to 
take a little walk. Bob was carrying my handbag, and I walked 
slowly, and he was behind me. As we were going on, we met a 
crowd of rather rough boys, and they hallooed out: 

"Look at the darkey! Look at the darkey! " 

And by and by I heard one of them say, as though he was 
going to strike somebody, though I didn't look around: 

" Look out! I'll knock your head off." 

I knew Bob had done something; shook his fist at him, or 
made a face at him. It was in him, and he was full of pluck. 
After awhile I turned around, and, oh! such a face as Bob had on 
him; long, and sour. So I said to him: 

" Bob, what's the matter? " 

He was very pouty. I stood still till he came up to me. Then 
I said to him: " What ails you?" 



Amanda Smith. 



403 



44 Ma, didn't you hear what those boys said? " 
44 Yes; didn't they say it to me, too? " 
44 Yes, ma'am." 

44 Did I say anything to them? " 
44 No, ma'am." 

But still he was frowny and sulky. Then I said to him: "Bob, 
did you sleep in bed last night? " For he always slept in the bed 
with me, and it was as much as I could do to keep him covered, 
for he would kick the covers off, and I was afraid he would freeze. 

• 4 Yes, ma'am." 

44 Did you have your breakfast this morning? " 
44 Y^es, ma'am." 

44 Have you got your boots on ? " 

44 Y T es, ma'am," he said, looking clown at his feet. 

44 Have you got your pants on? " 

44 Y T es, ma'am." 

44 Have you got your coat on? " 

44 Y T es, ma'am." 

44 Have you got your cap on? " 

44 Y^es, ma'am." 

44 Did what those boys said to you hurt you? " 
44 No, ma'am." 

44 Well, what is it ? You have had your breakfast, and you have 
your boots on, and your pants on, and your coat on, and your cap 
on, and you are not hurt. What is the matter? " 

So he saw the point, that nothing the boys said to him had 
done him any harm. He smiled, and we went on. 

Now this was before he was converted; and so the change, in my 
mind, when he was converted was very clear. Praise the Lord, for 
He is good, and His mercy endureth forever. Amen. Amen. 

The question has often been asked me, how I got Bob in 
school. This, too, was the Lord's doings. 

We had been at Southport, and I had an engagement in Liver- 
pool, and was to leave by a certain train. My friend, Mrs. Stavely, 
was going to the station with us, and I mistook the time. She 
had gone out for a few moments, and said she would be back in 
time to go with us to the station. But I got a little nervous, and 
felt I must not miss that train; the carriage was at the door, and 
I said: 44 1 will just get into the carriage, and drive onto the 
station; I am so afraid I will be late." So off we went. 



404 



Autobiography Of 



I sent the carriage back immediately, but when I got there I 
found I was twenty minutes too early; and I thought to myself, as 
I sat in the waiting-room, 44 What does this mean?" What will 
Mrs. Stavely think of me for driving off in the carriage as I did? 
Oh, dear, I'm so sorry. But what does it all mean? " Then I said, 
" Lord, there is some lesson in this; teach me what it is." 

A few minutes later a lady came in, and looking at me, she 
said: 

44 This is Mrs. Amanda Smith, is it not? " 
44 Yes, ma'am." 

"My daughters have been to your meetings, and they enjoyed 
them so much. I would like to have attended myself; but other 
duties have pressed me so, I was not able to come; but my daugh- 
ters have enjoyed them." Then turning, she said to me, as she 
looked at Bob, " Is that your little boy?" 

44 Yes, madam." 

44 What are you going to do with him? Why don't you put 
him into school? " 

44 1 have been looking to the Lord, but no place has opened up 
yet. I would like to get him into a good school somewhere." 

44 1 will tell you of an excellent school, right here in Southport;" 
she said, 44 a good Christian school where he will have good atten- 
tion and care; just as good as if you were with him yourself; and 
you might go thousands of miles away, and leave him, safely; and 
they have had several of your people from the West Indies, and 
they understand how to care for them, coming from those warm 
climates." 

I thanked her very kindly, and she gave me the lady's name, 
and said, "I will go and see her about it, and let you know. I 
will go at once." 

44 1 am going to Liverpool," I replied, and gave her my 
address, where she could write me. And sure enough, she did so; 
and so in April I took Bob to Miss Hobbs' school, at Southport, 
where he has been ever since. 

They made a reduction for me, as I was a missionary, from 
their regular terms, so as to make it as easy as possible for me, 
which is another token of God's loving kindness. 

I went on paying for about six months; then I got a letter 
from a friend, saying I needn't send any more money for Bob; it 
was all attended to. Since then no bills have come to me for him. 



Amanda Smith. 



405 



And this winter has been the first time he has been sick, any- 
thing special: he has had a sore throat, and cold, but the Lord 
has taken wonderful care of him. 

How I thank God for the dear friends He has given; and how 
true His word; surely he has raised up friends, and I have done 
the little I could. Praise His name forever. Amen. Amen. 



CHAPTER XXX. 



NATIVE BABIES — VISIT TO CKEEKTOWN — NATIVE SUPERSTITIONS 
— PRODUCTS OF AFRICA — DISAPPOINTED EMIGRANTS. 

One day, while at Careysburg, I heard a poor, little, native 
baby crying most piteously, and I looked out to see what was the 
matter. It was just across the street from Brother Hagins'. The 
mother was sitting in front of the house. 

She had given her baby its bath; they are very particulai 
about bathing them and keeping them clean; of course they wear 
no clothes, not a stitch, and they bathe them every morning, and 
sometimes oftener, during the day; their skin is generally as clean 
as can be; really I never saw a dirty native baby. 

The mother was sitting with this little thing, about six 
months old, I suppose, and a beautiful child inform, with features 
regular and well ordered, and she had a little iron pot, that held 
about a quart, full of soft boiled rice setting beside her, and a little 
tin cup that had been used for condensed milk, full of water; the 
rice was boiled very soft, and hot with pepper, with a little salt, 
and she was stuffing her baby; we say feed, but she was literally 
stuffing it; they generally stuff them till their little stomachs 
stand out. 

She held the little being between her knees, and rilled its 
mouth, and it scrambled and hollowed, and almost choked; but 
when it did choke a little she would shake it till it caught its 
breath, then put a little water in its mouth, and it would strangle 
and choke and kick till you would think it would go into spasms. 

I went over and thought I would beg for it; I felt so sorry to 
see the little thing; to me it looked like brutal punishment. I 
went up to the mother, and said to her: 

"Mammy, you do that baby too bad; don't do it." 

She looked up at me at first with a kind of a frown; she didn't 

(406) 



Amanda Smith. 



407 



quite understand what I said; but when I made her understand, 
she laughed and said: 

''Mammy, it do him good; it make him fine." And sh 
seemed to pity me to think I was so weak as to want to save a babv 
from growing fine! 

I stood and looked at her; w T hen she was done she had put 
nearly every bit of this rice into the baby's stomach. Then she 
greased it all over from head to foot with palm oil, and then laid 
it on a mat in the sun, and it kicked and cried till it got tired, and 
then stopped and quieted down, and went to playing with its toes 
and hands, as happy as a cat in the ashes! 

"Well," I said, "it is wonderful." 

They think that to let a baby cry and kick gives strength to 
its muscles and lungs, and helps it to grow. It kicks and exer- 
cises, and after all I don't know but there is pretty good logic in 
it, when you see how the little things develop, and grow strong 
and straight. 

At another time, while I was at Tatakai, with Bishop Taylor, 
I heard a baby early in the morning and late at night, in the next 
native house to where I stayed. 

It cried so pitifully one night that I was tempted to go and 
see what was the matter; but then I knew I could do nothing, for 
they would not understand me; so next morning I asked Aunt 
Julia, who was with me, and who was a Liberian, but could speak 
And understand the native language quite well, what was the 
matter with the baby; it was a little thing about a week old. 

She said that the mother was giving it its bath; and then after 
bathing it would rub it with pepper; and that was why it cried sc 
dreadfully. I asked her why they did it, and she said to keep it 
from taking cold. The weather was damp, and their houses have 
no floors, and that is a preventive from taking cold. And they 
often put pepper in their eyes, they say, to make them strong. 

Whether this be true or not, there is one thing, you seldom 
see a native heathen with sore or weak eyes; you hardly ever see 
one blind; sometimes, it is true, but they are not nearly so general 
as you see them in civili zed countries. 

Now, so far as a preventive to taking cold is concerned, I 
am in for that; but, Lord, deliver me from that means! 

At Old Calabar they used to sacrifice twins, but this is stopped, 
so that if they can get them to a missionary they save them. Dear, 



408 



Autobiography of 



old Mother Goldie, whose home is in Creektown, and who has 
spent so many years of her life in Africa, was one of the first who 
began to save the twin children. How sad, and yet interesting, 
were some of her experiences, which she related to me. 

It is considered a mark of very bad luck when the mother has 
twins, and the father and mother feel alike about it, and think it 
is quite right to let them perish. 

At Duketown a pair of little twins were brought to the 
mission house to Miss McFunn, in a small basket covered with 
plantain leaves; they had been born about four hours, and had 
never been touched; one was dead, and the other living, and both 
lay in the basket together, the dead and the living. Miss McFunn 
took the living child and washed and dressed it, and rolled it in a 
nice blanket; they tried to feed it; but the poor little thing was so 
weak it could not nurse; so it lived about three hours and died, 
which was a great relief to the mother and father, who both sat 
down and mourned together that the Lord should send them such 
bad luck. 

A Mr. Henderson, one of the chief merchants, who was most 
kind to all the missionaries, and who always kept very nice, large 
boats, and a full crew, took Miss McFunn, Mrs. Lisle, Mrs. Jaret 
and her husband, and myself, for a little trip, of a distance, I sup- 
pose, of twelve miles, to Creektown. 

It was the first time that I had seen dear old Father and 
Mother Goldie, as they were called, the heroes of thirty-five or 
forty years. How glad I was to see them. God bless them. 

Creektown is a very pretty settlement; a very nice, large 
church, school house, mission house, out-houses and other houses 
where the missionaries live, besides some very nice, large, native 
houses. 

Miss McFunn and myself were invited ito dine with Mr. and 
Mrs. Goldie. Mrs. Lisle was invited to dine with Miss Slicer, who 
is also a Scotch missionary, and has done a grand work. God 
bless her. 

She has about twenty or thirty children to teach. She speaks 
the language as well as if she were a born native. It is perfectly 
wonderful. She might be called an expert. She gave me the 
history of a little baby which she had had only three months. 

The father stole a dog and killed it and cooked it, and of 
Course the wife helped eat it. It was found out rather soon; for 



Amanda Smith. 



409 



just as they had finished eating, the man who had owned the dog 
came and threw down his curse on the ground before them, and 
said that whoever ate his dog should die. The poor woman, 
being frightened, I suppose, was taken sick and died in a few 
hours; and the poor baby, only a few weeks old, was left. Of 
course, no one would touch it. The father did what he could for 
a week, and then took it, dying, as they thought, to Miss Slicer 
and begged her to take it. She did, and with much care and 
strong faith in God, she saved its life, and it was growing finely. 
It had got fat, and was as bright, and Miss Slicer was as fond of 
it, as if it had been her own child. 

Miss Slicer is the kind of a missionary for Africa. May the 
Lord bless, and send scores of such. Amen. Amen. 

One thing which is peculiar in the Sierra Leone people is 
that they seldom let go of their superstitions. They have the 
fetich in charms on their persons, or hidden in their houses. I 
was told there were but few houses but had some charm buried in 
their yard or under their doorstep. 

One day I was admiring a handsome gold chain a gentleman 
had tastefully arranged on his person. A friend said to me, 
"Would you believe that that gentleman has four charm fetiches 
in gold? He has the strongest kind of belief in fetich." 

So it is everywhere you go. I visited the hospital while at 
Bunth. There I saw an old man who was a Christian, and had 
been sexton in the Episcopal Church for twenty years, and a reg- 
ular communicant. He was very intelligent, and interesting to 
talk to; spoke good English, and though he was feeble, he would 
get out of his cot and kneel down while I prayed with him. As I 
went to help him up after the prayer, I saw under his loose gown, 
or shirt, a string of cowries around his waist. Poor old man! 

In this the Liberians are different. You see there but very 
little of this, though here and there are some relics. Then, as a 
rule, the Liberians all speak good American English, which is quite 
noteworthy. 

I am often asked what are the products of the country? And 
what the people live on? And if the soil is good? 

In Liberia the soil is generally rich; some places better than 
others; and they can raise about every kind of vegetable there 
that would grow in California or Florida. I have seen as fine cab- 
bage, melons, cucumbers, tomatoes, beans, and sweet potatoes 
raised there as I ever saw raised anywhere. 



410 



Autobiography of 



Then there are various kinds of fruits. They are different 
from what we have here. There are no apples, or peaches, or ber- 
ries like ours. The mango plum is most abundant, and is very 
nice in every way you can prepare it. When in Cape Palmas I 
dried some, just as we dry apples. 

Some of the people thought I was wild; the idea of drying 
plums. But it was not very difficult; the sun is so hot that in 
two da} s they were as dry as bones. I found them most convenient 
when the rainy season came on; and some of the folks that laughed 
at the idea learned a good lesson. 

As a rule they do not dry any of the fruits. Sometimes they 
will make preserves, but not often. The} just use the things as 
they come round in season, and when the season is done they are 
done, until the Lord brings the season for them around again! 

There is a nice fruit called petanga; something like a cherry; 
quite tart. These make a very nice jelly, something like currant 
jelly. I didn't see Irish potatoes grow, but I was told they had been 
grown there, but were generally small. For them they depend on 
the English steamers that bring them, generally from Madeira. 

If they get fresh seed imported every year, their cabbage, and 
melons and other vegetables grow large, and to the same perfec- 
tion they would here; but if they plant from the same seed, they 
will be a size smaller each year. They seem to degenerate. No 
one seems to be able to account for it. They have the same soil 
and attention, but they are smaller. 

In bringing seed across the ocean, unless it is put in sealed 
tins, air tight, no matter what it is, the salt air affects it, and very 
often it does not come up at all; and if it does come up, it will die 
away. 

The proper time of year for gardening is September. Every- 
body that makes a garden at all, or puts seed in the ground, must 
do it then, so that at Christmas and New Years they have the 
nicest kind of vegetables and melons. 

Then there are cocoanuts, bananas, oranges, pineapples and 
such as that. No one plants them specially; they grow almost 
everywhere. I did, just before I left, get some cocoanut scions, 
or young plants, and set them out, some five or six in number, in 
Ma Payne's lot. I named them all. The last I heard they were 
growing nicely, and the one I named "Amanda Smith" was 
flourishing. 



Amanda Smith, 



411 



Cotton grows nicely, with but little care. They could grow 
acres of it; but I never saw a dozen plants or bushes anywhere. The 
most I did see at any one place was four nice, large bushes which 
grew in the yard at old Sister S.'s, at Sinoe. They use a good deal 
of this for quilts. Everybody has quilts. They don't put as much 
in them as they do in quilts at home; they do not need to be as 
heavy; yet they don't raise a sufficient quantity of cotton to sup- 
ply all the people who would use it. 

All these things that I have spoken of are possibilities in 
Liberia that are yet to be developed on a larger scale. For why 
should they not manufacture goods there as they do in England 
and America? In the good time that is coming they will. 

Then the}' raise a great many fowls. So do the natives. They 
have eggs for their own purposes. Then they have cattle and pigs 
and goats; and while these are essential, and a blessing to those 
who own them, to others they are a great annoyance and trouble. 

For instance: one has a good garden made, and a strong stick 
fence as they could get around it. These native stick fences do 
not last longer than one season, as a rule. After the first year 
some one is most always sure to break them out for wood to burn, 
and as soon as they begin to break them it is only a matter of time 
when they will be all gone. 

Then, as these pigs and goats and cows all run at large, just 
as you get your garden made, or just as the things are beginning 
to come to perfection, you go out some morning and a goat or cow 
or pig has been in, and your whole garden is gone. 

If those who own them in different neighborhoods would 
arrange to keep them up, then the people who make the gardens 
would have enough for themselves, and could help their neigh- 
bors. But this is one of the drawbacks. Then, if you had no 
more seed to put in, which is very likely, you are out; often this 
is the case. In different parts of Liberia, in every county I was 
in, the people complained of the same trouble; consequently, 
many that might have fine gardens did not bother to make them. 

I advised them to form companies, as they do in India; each 
man who had land, to give so much for grazing for two or three 
months at a time, then hire a man or boy to take the cattle and 
bring them back every day. I spoke of this everywhere I went, 
and they thought it a good thing; but who would start it, and who 
would get the most money out of it? But I am sure it would be 



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the best thing for all. I think the time will come when they will 
see it so. But the time is not yet. 

Mr. Johnson, with whom I stopped several weeks, in Bassa, 
told me he had lost eight or nine bullocks in a few years; and pigs 
and goats, as well. He was a merchant, and had what they call a 
farm, some two or three miles away from where he lived. But he 
let his cattle run at large, just as other people did; if he would 
make a fence, it would be destroyed in a little while, and his cattle 
would be shot, or chopped with a cutlass, and maimed so they 
would have to be killed. 

One day while I was there, one of their cows (one Mrs. John- 
son had raised from a little calf), came home with three large 
arrows that had been shot into her, still sticking in her. That is 
the way Mr. Johnson came to tell me about what I have just said. 

At Sierra Leone, and down the coast, I think they are more 
advanced. They have large markets both at Sierra Leone, and at 
Lagos, so the steamers take on a supply. Then all along the coast 
after they leave Liberia, they are supplied with fowls, eggs, 
pigeons, bananas, pineapples, peppers, water cress, and all sorts of 
vegetables in abundance; large fowls, sixpence apiece. 

Further down the coast the natives make very handsome cloth. 
They are very clever in making their dyes; it is wonderful how 
they do it. They have very strong dyes, with fast colors, green, 
blue, red, yellow, and various colors; it is marvelous how they 
blend them; and some of the native cloths are really beautiful. 
They bring them on the steamers and sell them for different prices, 
ten, twenty, twenty-five, twenty-six shillings, and some for more. 
I bought an elegant cloth at ten shillings; but one of the officers 
got one at twenty, and he said it was very cheap. 

Chillicothe is the place where you generally get these hand- 
some country cloths. I also got one or t wo very nice pieces at Mon- 
rovia; but nothing like those that you get down the coast. They 
weave their cloth in strips about four or five inches wide; then 
they sew it together to any length or breadth they want it. 

The natives are great geniuses in this way; and it is wonder- 
ful to see the number of things they can make. 

Then the Liberians have other products besides those which I 
have named. Their coffee is very fine, and of rich flavor. There 
are some large planters who raise and ship thousands of pounds. 
Among these are, Mr. Moses Ricks, and Senator Coleman, of Clay- 



Amanda Smith, 



413 



Ashland; Sanders Washington, of Virginia; June Moore and Saul 
Hill, of Arthington; and Jesse Sharpe. These are all on or near 
the St. Paul River. They are men who went from this country 
years ago, when young; men of sterling worth and push. The 
Ricks' were three brothers — Moses, Henry, and John; they were 
staunch Baptists, and good men. They always stood together, 
and were the stay and the backbone of the church at Clay-Ash- 
land. 

In developing mission work among the natives, so far as my 
observation went, the Baptists were ahead. And their churches 
and mission work are all self-supporting, that is, they have no 
foreign help, as they used to have. Then at Arthington, June 
Moore and Saul Hill, were classed among the men of large means. 
Both of these were earnest Christian men, and Deacons in the Bap- 
tist Church. 

Mr. Moore, in his outward appearance, was very plain, but a 
man of more than ordinary intelligence, and unquestioned veracity, 
and moral character; and a strong temperance man. His is a 
beautiful character. I wish I could have found it more general. 

Mr. Moore was a very good preacher. He had charge of the 
Baptist Church at Arthington, and had the confidence of the peo- 
ple, Liberians and natives. Through his sympathy and co-opera- 
tion we held a temperance meeting in the Baptist .Church at Ar- 
thington, and organized a Gospel Temperance Band, and, I think, 
made him President. Of course, the majority there, were not far 
advanced on the line of woman preaching. It was all right at 
other churches, and the} T would go and hear, and get what benefit 
they could. But they were generally in favor of Paul's assertion: 
" Let your women keep silence in the churches." 

The more liberal believe that the other statement of Paul 
should be considered as well, viz. : how a woman should be adorned 
when praying or prophesying. 

The Lord blessed me very greatly, and I had my friends 
among them all. I was never asked in a Baptist Church to take 
a service, while I was there; only to address a Sabbath School. 

I spent a very pleasant time at Mr. June Moore's home, and 
immensely enjoyed the conversation we had together. He was 
full of information on all points of interest in the republic, and 
country, both among the natives and Liberians. 

After the family prayer was over in the evening, we sat and 



414 



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talked till twelve o'clock. He told me all about the much talked 
of Richard Morris school, of which he had charge at that time. 
This I was very anxious to know about, as I had met Mr. Richard 
Morris in England, before I went to Africa, and had heard some 
of his interesting lectures, and about the school that he was estab- 
lishing for the education and training of the sons of native chiefs! 
But when I got there, and saw and heard for myself, oh, how 
different. So far as the sons of native chiefs being in the school, 
there never had been one. The native boys who did go to the 
school, were the boys who lived in the different families in the 
neighborhood. Mr. June Moore had several native boys. These 
went to the school during the rainy season; when this was over 
they had to work on the farm. 

The little school house was formerly a Methodist church, 
with a seating capacity of about fifty, when it was packed. 

Poor Mr. Morris meant to do Liberia good; and no doubt he 
did help the people greatly, by introducing their coffee at the 
great Centennial Exposition. But the pretty little steamer, costing 
six hundred pounds, which he sent out from England, and the 
three large iron soap kettles, ended up pretty much like the hang- 
ing of the gin at Virginia; that was a sad failure. 

I think that often these things are misleading to those who 
purpose emigrating. They hear of these things, and they sound 
well; they have gathered a little together, by dint of hard work, 
and much self-denial; they sacrifice it and go off to Liberia. When 
they find things so different from what has been represented, they 
become discouraged, and disappointed, and often disgusted. They 
have no means to get back to this country, and if they did, they 
could not recover what they have sacrificed, and so would have to 
make an entirely new start; so that many give up and die, or 
make up their minds to do the best they can, and that is often a 
grievously poor do. 

I remember when that large emigration came to Cape 
Palmas, the citizens called a mass meeting in the Episcopal school 
room, to which these strangers were invited. Papers, and ad- 
dresses of welcome, were read. 

As it was but a short distance from where I lived, when I 
heard of it I said I would go. I was glad of it, and thought it 
would encourage and help the strangers. But I was told, a little 
while after, that no women were to go; it was only for men. Then 



Amanda Smith. 



415 



I was more anxious than ever; and, womanlike, I became suspic- 
ious, as well as curious. I thought, "Why can't I go? These 
emigrants are from my country, and I have a right tc go, and I 
will." 

Just before the meeting someone called and asked me if I were 
going. 

" Yes," I said. 

" Oh, my husband says there are no women going, and he will 
not let me go. " 

"Well," I said, "you have a husband to obey; but I have not; 
so I am going. " 

The seats will all be full," she said. 
" All right, I will take my own chair." 

So I did. They all knew I was a kind of privileged char- 
acter anyhow, and generally carried out what I undertook. 

T noticed, when I went in. they began to look at one another. 
Sure enough, I was the only woman there. 

I went and took my seat in the middle of the aisle. I think 
they thought that I wanted to talk; but that was a mistake. 
There was talking enough done to have built a tower, if there had 
been anything in it. Mr. James Tuning was the speaker of the 
evening. He had a very lengthy paper about Jacob receiving his 
brethren. And of all the big talk that anyone ever listened to, 
they had it in that meeting. 

I knew that more than half that was in the papers was only 
worth the paper it was on. I was quite sure it didn't mean more 
than that; but the strangers didn't know it. All the prominent 
men of the place were present — His Lordship, Bishop Ferguson, 
the Hon. J. Gibson, Mr. J. Thorne, Mr. Ashton and a number of 
others. 

When they were all through expressing themselves, and 
heartily welcoming the emigrants to their country, this free coun- 
try where they were not oppressed by white men: the country 
where they could be men; where they had the rights of the law, 
and were independent, and all the other big things we can say, 
then they asked the emigrants to speak. 

As it was getting late, there were but three of these emigrants 
who made speeches. The leader was a young man. a Mr. Massie, 
who had been the chief in getting up this emigration and leading 
them out. He was the Moses. He talked well, though his speech 



416 



Autobiography of 



was not lengthy. But of all the raking of white people! It 
seemed as if their chief aim was to say all the hard things and 
vent all their unpleasant feelings against the white people; which 
is very much admired by the Liberians, and is a mark of real race 
loyalty. 

Each one, in turn, expressed himself the same way. The 
home folks laughed and smiled and looked at me. I felt very 
sorry for this. It is the wrong spirit to be cherished and culti- 
vated and perpetuated. I have never seen any good from it. 
Somehow or other, though I cannot explain it, it is not the spirit 
that has the sanction of God. It is wrong in those who have 
caused these grievances, but it does not help us any to forever keep 
looking at the wrongs, and never see any of the good, which has 
always gone along side by side with the wrong. The good has not 
always been the strongest or the most prominent, yet it has been 
there. 

I could not help thinking, as I listened, that before these poor 
emigrants had been there half as long as I had been, if they 
needed sympathy or help, they would find it quicker right among 
those whom they had held up that night as being their worst 
enemies, than they would among those who got up there and said 
such big things. 

And I was there to see that same man, within six months, 
come to such absolute need that he came to me to borrow two gal- 
lons of rice. His wife was sick, his baby had died, and he had 
terrible sores on his feet and legs from the effects of the chigoes; 
and he was in a pitiable and helpless condition. He had been to 
one of the white merchants the week before and borrowed some 
rice. He could not get it from any of his brethren and friends who 
had read such noble papers and given them such a hearty welcome. 

He did not like to come to me, because T had not failed to tell 
them that when they pot to where they were in great need they 
would find very likely these 'riends would fail them. So he 
stayed away as long as he could. 

I was glad when he came to me that I was able to help him. 
I said to him, " I am sorry for you. I could have told you that, that 
same night you were talking; but then if I had told you then, you 
would not have believed it." 

Poor fellow, the tears were in his eyes. He said, " Ah, Sister 
Smith, I have learned a lesson." 



Amanda Smith. 



417 



And so he had. But as the old saying is, " Bought wit is bet- 
ter than taught wit," when you do not buy it too dear. This poor 
man's purpose was, after he got settled in Liberia, to come back 
to America and bring out a large emigration. My! what wonder- 
ful things he was going to do. But that little experience cooked 
him pretty thoroughly; so that his ambitions were not so high. 

Poor Massie! I wonder how he has got on. I am simply 
speaking of this as what I knew and saw when I was there. 
Everything may have changed since then, for all I know. There 
were possibilities, but not many probabilities. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 



LIBERIA — BUILDINGS — THE RAINY SEASON — SIERRA LEONE — ITS 
PEOPLE — SCHOOLS — WHITE MISSION ARIES — COMMON SENSE 
NEEDED — BROTHER JOHNSON'S EXPERIENCE — HOW WE GET 
ON IN AFRICA. 

Emigrants going to Liberia think they can rent a small house, 
or rooms, as they can in this country. People will come there, 
who have left a comfortable home behind, and think they will 
rent a small house for six months or a year, till they can get their 
own house built; but this they can seldom do. The reason of 
this, I think is, the climate is very hard on timber, and a house 
standing unoccupied for any length of time will soon be destroyed. 

The bug-a-bug is a very large ant, which eats the wood to a 
perfect hull, and the most destructive insect in that regard in the 
country. If they get into a trunk or chest of clothes, and are not 
discovered in time, they will go through everything, books, papers, 
etc.; nothing stands before them. After you know this, a little 
watching may save you a great deal of trouble. 

So that the most of the people in Liberia, or anywhere else in 
the republic, build, and live in their own houses. Houses that 
are built of stone or brick are the most durable; and the best 
houses there are thus built. But the frame houses have the hard- 
est time. 

Slate roofing, in one sense, would be better than shingles, 
especially for the rainy season, for the reason that the rain and 
sun do not affect it so much as they do the shingles. 

During the rainy season there, it literally pours. I have often 
thought of Noah in the ark when I have seen the rain pour down 
without mercy for two or three days in succession, with just a 
little intervals of a slight break between. Then the sun would 
come out, sometimes for a half day, perhaps in the morning or 

(418) 



Amanda Smith. 



419 



afternoon, then it would rain at night; but these little intervals 
help the people to get about and do their work. Nobody seems to 
stop especially. After you have been here awhile you do not seem 
to mind it. It is rather comfortable, for it is not so warm then, 
and you can stand a good little fire in the house to absorb the 
dampness. 

As a rule there is a good deal of sickness and fever among the 
natives during this season; but people having comfortable houses 
suffer but very little inconvenience. 

When the rainy season is over, and the blazing, hot sun beats 
down, the shingles curl right up and split, so that almost every 
year it is necessary to go through some repairing. On the other 
hand, the slate roof gets so hot that it makes sleeping almost im- 
possible, unless the roof is high, and well lined under the slate. 

There are some large houses, for stores; these are occupied by 
white merchants, or traders, so that if there chance to be a good 
house of any size to rent, they generally have the preference, for 
they always have the money, and that is the first consideration in 
Africa as well as elsewhere. 

Now, in this regard Sierra Leone is different. There are 
almost always good houses to rent there; they build houses for 
that purpose. And so if you want a house with a store under- 
neath, or a large private house, or one not so large, it can be got at 
a reasonable price, as a rule, and on a good, wide street. 

The Sierra Leone houses are very substantially built, but gen- 
erally of stone or brick, with yards enclosed by a good, high wall, 
after the English style, and nicely furnished inside. I have seen 
some as finely finished houses in Sierra Leone and Lagos as I have 
seen in America or England. 

The people of Sierra Leone are greatly mixed, as to tribes; so 
much so, that I think it w T ould be difficult to tell to just what par- 
ticular tribe they really belong. 

They have no real, distinct language. They speak a lingo of 
broken English, which all seem to understand; and when two or 
three dozen of them are together, especially the women and girls 
in the market places, it would remind one unaccustomed to it of 
the chattering of a thousand swallows. My! but they can talk. 
But there are hundreds who speak good English. 

There are many wealthy merchants, both in Sierra Leone and 
Lagos, who often send their sons and daughters to England, and 



420 



Autobiography op 



sometimes to France, to be educated. But somehow they never 
seem to lose this peculiar Sierra Leone idiom; so that they are 
just as distinct in their customs and manners of speech from 
Liberians and Americans, as Italians are different from Americans 
in this country; so they do not assimilate easily. They inter- 
marry occasionally, but not often; and when they do, they seldom 
get on well together, their training and education are so entirely 
different. 

But the country is no better off for this education. Of course 
they don't come home to do missionary work among the people; 
they belong to the upper rank; and so those of the same rank are a 
society among themselves; and the second and third classes of 
their own people are never the better for their higher education, 
only as they may serve them, as servants, or otherwise. 

If it is a lady, she is either engaged, before she comes home, 
to be married to some rich gentleman, or very soon after she gets 
home you may hear that she has had an offer; sometimes there 
will be rival suitors for her hand, and you will wait with the 
greatest interest, for you are sure to hear of it, which of these has 
won the suit. As much of this depends on the weight of their 
pockets as anything else. 

And then, when one of these weddings comes off, it will give 
you a little idea of what real black aristocracy is. It would com- 
pare favorably with the same kind of an event on Fifth Avenue, 
New York, or in Washington, D. C. Fine cards and wedding 
presents, and all the outfit for four or five bridesmaids, as well as 
bride and groom, and best man, etc., etc., all imported from 
England and France. These people are not ignorant in regard to 
the highest style, and the greatest etiquette. 

As a rule, I think the Sierra Leone people are generally indus- 
trious; there are merchants, tailors, carpenters, etc., among them. 
They have large markets where you can go and get, two or three 
times a week, all sorts of produce, at a good price. Then they 
have regular beef markets, from which they supply Government 
House, and the large barracks of English soldiers. 

They are grellt traders, men, women, boys and girls; the 
women often surpass the men. They will go up and down the 
rivers, and in the interior, buying palm oil, rubber, camwood, 
and boys and girls, if necessary. I was told they do this some- 
times, but for the purpose of setting them free, as the English law 



Amanda Smith. 



421 



does not allow anyone to own slaves, when it is really known. 
Thank God for that. 

Formerly they had good schools in Freetown. This is one 
thing I admire in the English government; she generally looks 
well after the education of her colonists. Of course there is room 
for much improvement, even in Sierra Leone and Lagos. 

All up and down the coast, wherever you go where the English 
flag waves, and there has been any civilization at all, you will find 
scores and hundreds who have a liberal education, and are fitted 
for most all professions and callings. 

The Wesleyan Girls' High School, at Freetown, was once a 
beautiful building, with well furnished dormitories, and a staff of 
first-class teachers; but it has seen its best days, without a great 
change takes place. For several years it has been sadly declining 
in power and influence, being almost entirely under the control of 
one or two parties. I was told that when it was first founded, it 
was under the management of white people; the lady principal 
and teachers were all white, and they did a grand work. And 
then the boys' high school, which I also visited, and had the 
privilege, through the invitation of the principal, Mr. M., of 
addressing, was not what it once was, or should be. The Episco- 
pal school, both for girls and boys, is good. The boys have a fine, 
large, commodious building, and a good staff of teachers. 

Several of the Liber ian families, who have not been able to 
send their sons and daughters as far as England to be educated, 
sent them to Freetown. I had the pleasure of going all through 
this building, on the day of the dedication of the new dormitory 
and recitation rooms, which had been added to the main building, 
accommodating, I think, probably two hundred in all. His lord- 
ship, the Bishop, was in the chair, and gave a most excellent 
address, as did also Mr. N., who, I think, at that time had charge 
of the theological department, and who was a noble, Christian 
gentleman. His sister was the lady principal of the girls' high 
school, which I also visited, and had the pleasure of speaking a 
few words to the young ladies. Everything was in good order. 

I was greatly delighted with this school, especially the house- 
keeping department, where, in connection with their studies, each 
girl took her turn in the sweeping, dusting, making bread, biscuit, 
pie, or cake, and in washing dishes and attending the dining room. 
This, it seemed to me, was the most essential of all; it would cer- 



422 



Autobiography of 



tainly be one of the "one needful things." For if, having the 
intellectual qualifications, the girls in Africa are remiss in this, 
the former is as good as lost, to a great extent, as their homes 
would not be what they might be otherwise. 

Then, there are private schools. I visited a Mr. Leapol's 
school, which was a very nice school for boys. I suppose he accom- 
modated about forty. Mr. L. was a very high type of a Christian 
gentleman; I think, a West Indian by birth. This school was of 
the higher grade. Teachers and helpers, I believe, were all 
colored. 

There was a good government school, which, according to my 
American ideas, should have continued to exist. But when the 
new Bishop came, he, being a very conservative English gentle- 
man, and invested with power, thought it best, as I was told, to 
disband the government school, and build a large parish school. 
So that many of the poor children, who were not able to pay, were 
shut out. This opened a good harvest for the Roman Catholics, 
which they lost no time in securing. 

I am often asked if I think that missionary work in Africa 
prospers and develops better when under the entire control of 
colored people, or do I think it is better under the control of white 
people. 

To answer this as best I can I will give my experience and 
observation at the several places I have been. 

The schools at Old Calabar under the Scotch Presbyterian 
Missionary Society, and the schools and missions at Lagos, and the 
Episcopal, Baptist and Wesleyan Schools in the Republic of Libe- 
ria, and then in Sierra Leone the United Free Methodists, the 
Episcopals, the Lad} r Huntington Society, the U. B. Mission, and 
the English Baptist Mission, all were established, supported and 
superintended by white missionaries; but just in proportion as 
they have died, or on account of poor health have had to retire 
from the work, the schools and mission property have declined. 

Many of them in the work have developed good native teachers 
and preachers, who are loyal, and faithful, and true; and the 
white missionary feels that he, or she, could not do without these 
native helpers. But when the whole work is left to them the 
interest seems to flag, and the natives themselves seem to lose 
their interest, which the teacher feels, but cannot help. 

I do not attempt to make any explanation of this; I simply 



Amanda Smith. 



423 



state the facts as I met them. And as T mingled with the people, 
old and young, and as the older people, who knew more about it, 
would tell me what it had been in former years, the remains of 
which were left, in the mission house and grounds, it was not dif- 
ficult to see the difference. 

Then, the white missionaries, as a rule, give better satisfaction, 
both to the natives and to the church or society which sends them 
out. 

I suppose no church or society ever gave a salary to a colored 
man, no matter how efficient he was, as large as they give to a white 
man or woman, no matter how inefficient he or she may be in the 
start; and I think they are generally expected to do more work. 
This I think is a great mistake. 

I believe that the death of the grandest black missionary I 
ever knew, Rev. Joseph Gomer, of the Shanghai Mission, was 
hastened through over-work and pressing need, and salary and 
means for work being cut down, and great anxiety because of the 
urgent demand for the work. 

For pure Christian integrity, and untarnished moral character, 
and fatherly sympathy and love for the poor heathen, he had but 
few equals in Africa, if any. 

"Then you think, Mrs. Smith, it is better that white mission- 
aries should go to Africa." 

Yes, if they are the right kind. If they are thoroughly con- 
verted and fully consecrated and wholly sanctified to God, so that 
all their prejudices are completely killed out. and their hearts are 
full of love and sympathy, and they have firmness of character, 
and good, broad, level-headed common sense, and are possessed of 
great patience, and strong, persistent, persevering faith, and then 
keep up the spirit of earnest prayer to Almighty God, day and 
night. I do not say that it is necessary to be under a dead strain 
all the time; not at all; but my own personal experience is that 
the more one prays and trusts in God, the better he can get on, 
especially in Africa. 

Everything is so different from what you have it at home, 
that this is an absolute necessity; and the person that has not got 
the stick-to-itiveness on these lines, especially, whatever else he 
may have, will not make a good missionary in Africa, whether he 
be white or black. 

I have known some white missionaries who have gone to 



424 



Autobiography of 



Africa, who were just as full of prejudice against black people as 
they are in this country, and did not have grace enough to hide 
it; but they seemed to think they were in Africa, and there was 
no society that they cared for, and that the black people had but 
little sense, so they would never know if they did act mean and do 
mean things. 

And I have known some who have done disreputable things, 
and it has had its effect on the motives and principles of the good 
missionaries, until they have had time enough patiently to live it 
down, and have proved to the Liberians and natives that there is 
a difference, even in white missionaries. 

But thank God, He has sent some who have fully answered to 
what I have said before. There are one or two who come to my 
mind now, who, I believe, in every particular fill the bill. I refer 
to Miss Lizzie McNeil, who, it seems to me, is a born missionary, 
and to Miss Whitfield. There are numbers of others; but I speak 
of these because I know them personally, and know their work. 

I remember the first party of Bishop Taylor's missionaries that 
came to Cape Palmas while I was there. The steamer got in on 
Saturday afternoon; six of the men came ashore Saturday evening; 
the others, with their families, remained till morning, and they all 
got ashore in time for church Sunday morning. 

Dear Brother Harnard preached a grand sermon. He was the 
leader, or bishop, of the party. They were all so full of hope and 
cheer. How bright and happy they all seemed to be. Brother 
Harnard had two beautiful children, about two and four years of 
age, I suppose; and the people, natives and all, were so delighted 
with them. Some of them have never seen white children so young; 
and then they were so beautifully trained; and Brother and Sister 
Harnard were so good and kind to every one. 

Brother Pratt, Bishop Taylor's agent in Cape Palmas, what- 
ever he may be now, was certainly the best man that Bishop Tay- 
lor could have got anywhere to fill the position, at the time. Oh, 
how faithfully that man worked. How he sacrificed his home, 
and everything for the work. His poor wife was sick all the time; 
suffered — Oh! what a sufferer she was; but she was second in 
everything for the success and good of Bishop Taylor's work. 

He took Brother Harnard and his wife and two children, and 
two of the other men, Brother Johnson and Brother Miller, to his 
house. Sister Harmon and I had arranged to take care of three 



Amanda Smith. 



425 



of the brethren — Brother Cadle, Brother Ortlit, and Brother Gar- 
wood. I gave them breakfast and tea, and Sister Harmon lodged 
them, and gave them dinner. 

On Monday afternoon I invited Brother Johnson and Brother 
Miller to take tea with the other brethren. Of course, these were 
my own country people; they had left their home and went to 
work among my people in Africa. So we did our best for them. 

I got Sister Harmon to make some nice, old-fashioned, Mary- 
land biscuit (which she knew as well how to do as I did myself, 
and I used to be considered an expert, once upon a time), and we 
had nice fried chicken, and all else we could get, and that in 
abundance; that is the way we generally had it in Africa, when 
we were in for a big thing! 

Of course, we could not go at that speed every day. But 
thank God, I never saw a day in Africa that I did not have plenty 
to eat. And when at Ma Payne's, in Monrovia, for days my meals 
would be sent to me in my room, when I was not able to go down, 
and as nicely served on a waiter as if I had been at a nice board- 
ing house, or at my own home in America. 

After tea was over we were all talking and having a pleasant 
time; the brethren seemed so to have enjoyed their tea, and we 
were all pleased. 

Brother Johnson had been expressing in the most flattering 
terms his delight and appreciation of the splendid tea, and espe- 
cially the biscuit. He said the lady who made them must have 
been a wonderfully nice lady, and if she was not married, she 
ought to be; for a lady that could make such biscuit ought to 
have a good husband. Well, we all laughed, and passed it off in 
a joking manner. I felt pretty safe, as I had not made the biscuit. 

Sister Harmon was a nice looking woman, but was older than 
I, and had sons grown and married, and grandchildren; so she had 
no fear of anything, save the embarrassment of the question and 
answer, if it really came to that. So Brother Johnson said to me: 

M Mrs. Smith, I would like to speak to you privately." 

"Very well," I said; "we will excuse these brethren, and you 
can see me just here." 

So the three brethren arose and withdrew to the parlor. I had 
watched and listened to Brother Johnson, and had taken his meas- 
ure pretty thoroughly while he was talking, and I felt in my mind 
that he was going to play the fool. 



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Autobiography of 



"Now, Brother Johnson," said I, "proceed. What is it you 
want to say? " 

He straightened up and smiled, and acted a little embarrassed; 
then got red in the face and all down his neck, till his beautiful 
white necktie seemed as though it was about to get pink, too. 

I thought, 44 Dearie me, what will he say? " For I looked him 
squarely in the eye, and with the look of the rock of Gibraltar, if 
Gibraltar ever looked. I said, " It cannot mean that he is going to 
propose to me; he has just come; has not been here three days." 
After clearing his throat, he said: 

""Well, Sister Smith, or Mrs. Smith," (emphasizing the Mrs.). 

"Yes," I said. 

"Well, I have come to Africa, and expect to make it my 
future home. I have not come to go back. I expect to die here. " 

Then I spoke and said, " I don't think you need die here any 
sooner than you would in the United States. One need only use 
his common sense, and go a little slow while he is acclimating." 
Then I waited for the next shot. 

" I thought," he continued, " I would ask you if you knew of 
any nice colored woman that you think would make me a good 
wife. I could have married before I left my country, or America," 
(he was a Swede); "but I chose to wait till I got here; and I 
thought it would be better for me to marry a woman of the coun- 
try, who is already acclimated. If I were to marry a white woman, 
she would all the time be crying to go home to see her aunt or 
uncle, or her mother," with a prcjtty smile. 

I groaned, being burdened, to give vent to my mingled feel- 
ings. But then I controlled myself; for, during the time he talked, 
I was reading him, and I said to myself: " There is nothing in this 
man; he is as full of self as he can be, and he is going to be a fail- 
ure, if not a disgrace, to Bishop Taylor's mission here." For the 
work was just starting, and was new, and needed much careful 
guiding and management, with all the American and African pre- 
judices against this new, self-supporting movement, 

"Mr. Johnson, I know some very nice women here, who, I 
think would make good wives for somebody; but I would not 
recommend anyone that I know, to do what I would not do myself; 
and I, myself, would not marry you, or any other man, if you were 
gold; a rank stranger, just come from another country, and have 
not been here three days; no one knows anything about you; you 



Amanda Smith. 



427 



know nothing about the people. You are entirely premature. 
You will need to be here some time, and know Africa and the peo- 
ple. Then, besides, Bishop Taylor's self-supporting mission is in 
its infancy, and every eye is upon these first missionaries, both 
here and at home, and we must be careful that we do nothing that 
will hinder or hurt it in the start." 

I saw that my version of things did not take very well with 
Brother Johnson. But I did not know. until Wednesday what had 
gone before. 

Mr. Pratt's wife's sister, a very nice girl, had gone to help in 
the house, as Mrs. Pratt was sick. She took a great fancy to Mrs. 
Harnard and the children, and had offered herself to Mrs. Har- 
nard, to go with her, to take care of the children. 

It appeared that when Mr. Johnson came ashore on Saturday, 
and saw this girl at Mrs. Pratt's, he was struck clear through at 
first sight, and had proposed; and she, poor thing, thought it was 
splendid. She judged from outside appearances; for Mr. Johnson 
was a very nice looking man, nicely dressed, patent leather boots, 
shirt, collar and necktie exquisitely beautiful, and she thought 
she had a fish of the first water. 1 suppose she had; but it was 
bony. 

They were to be married on Thursday, and would have been, 
if Mr. Pratt had allowed it. When he found it out, he sent the 
girl home to her father, and managed to hold Brother Johnson in 
check for two weeks. 

So that was the meaning of the private conversation that Mr. 
Johnson wanted with me Monday evening. But he did not come 
straight out and tell me. I was glad afterward that I did not 
know anything about it, and that T talked just as I did. And, not- 
withstanding all that, they tried to say that T was favorable to it. 

They were married at the Methodist Church, by somebody, I 
don't remember now by whom; but I know Brother Harnard did 
not marry them. I never went near; because I was so busy with 
my sick missionaries, and I did not care an} r how, to see. the begin- 
ning of the thing; I was more interested about how it was going to 
come out. 

Well, it turned out just as I said. After a week or so he car- 
ried the poor thing up into the countr} 7 to their station. She had 
nothing, and he had nothing, only his mission supplies; and they 
had used the best part of those for their marriage feast, no one 



428 



Autobiography of 



made them any feast, or gave them any presents, as they do in this 
country. In this they both seemed to be greatly disappointed. 

Mr. Johnson seemed to think if he only married a colored girl, 
he being a white man, it would be such a standing proof to the 
colored people that he really loved them, that they would take 
him right into their arms, and lavish upon them their wealth and 
gifts; especially as he had married into one of the most respectable 
families in CapePalmas; the daughter of the Hon. Mr. H. Gibson. 
My! he thought he had it. And so he had. 

Poor girl! I knew her well. She had been converted and sanc- 
tified in one of the meetings that I had held, and had grown in 
grace, and was developing so nicely, and was one of our good work- 
ers in the Band of Hope Temperance work. 

When I knew that the decree was passed to marry Mr. John- 
son, I confess I was disappointed in her; for I really gave her credit 
for having more sense. So I never opened my head to her on the 
subject. 

Her joy and delight were of short duration. He got fever and 
was down sick. They came back to the Cape. I went to see him, 
and did what I could. 

When he got better they went again up to their station. The 
natives received them gladly, and gave them a bullock. They had 
their mission house built to go into. But everything was so differ- 
ent from what it was in America. He got down with fever again, 
and again they returned to the Cape. I, with Brother Pratt, did 
everything I could for him till I left. 

After some months of going back and forth, and getting down 
with fever, he came back to the Cape again, and took the first 
steamer for home, and left his wife there, to live or die. Poor 
thing! In less than a year she died. 

And Brother Johnson — though everything was done for him 
that could be done, I saw him after this in Monrovia, going about 
from house to house, and the worst thing he could say of Bishop 
Taylor and his self-supporting mission was too good. 

Of course, he and Mr. Hillman, and Mr. Astley, had all gone 
over to the Episcopal Church; and it seems that one of the surest 
marks of true fidelity to that church is to ignore and denounce 
everybody and everything in the church that has fitted them for 
this church to receive. 

The last time I saw Brother Johnson, was in July, '91, at the 



Amanda Smith. 



429 



Episcopal Mission at Cape Mount; and of all the poor, forlorn looking 
creatures that I had seen for some time, he seemed most to be pitied. 

I have said it was not always a matter of having the cash, in 
order to get on in Africa, for there were times when you couldn't 
get things even with the cash. 

"Then what would we do when we couldn't get the things 
we wanted at the stores? " 

Well, we would just have to wait, and do the best we could, 
till a steamer came, or an American vessel; sometimes it would be 
a week, or two, or three, just as it happened. 

" How did we get on? " 

Well, that is a difficult question to answer — how we got on. 
But we did get on; we would just call up the old mother of inven- 
tion, and she always had some plan to help us out; so there was no 
necessity of getting homesick or backsliding. 

I never was homesick but about five minutes the whole eight 
years I was in Africa; and that was one day when I was reading 
an account in the "Christian Standard" of a wonderful holiness 
meeting held at old John Street, New York, and I was so hungry 
for such a spiritual feast; and as I read I found myself saying, 
" How T wish I were there." 

When I thought of what I had said I sprang to my feet and 
cried out, "Now, Lord, help me, for I know I am right in the 
place where you want me, and it is all right." And in a moment 
the homesick feeling left me. 

Then once, while I was at Miss Sharpe's, I was very nearly 
homesick. I was just going through my first attack of fever, and 
suffered for a drink of cool water. Being accustomed to having 
ice in this country, or going to a spring or pump and getting a 
cool drink, I felt I must have some ice. In India they make ice; 
so while there I could get ice water; but they don't make it in 
Africa. Sometimes we could get a piece oif the steamer; but only 
a small piece, which could not last very long; and generally when 
one wanted it most, there would be no steamer in; so one must do 
without it. 

And the water is always warm. The only time you get it 
cool is very early in the morning, or during the rainy season. In 
the morning it would be a little cool, but if you drink it so very 
early you will be very apt to have a chill; so you must be careful 
on that line. 



430 



Autobiography of Amanda Smith. 



I was pretty well scorched with fever, and as the days and 
nights went on, and nothing cool to drink, and no appetite to eat 
anything I could get to eat, I craved what I could not get. 

Plenty could be got, but not what I wanted. I wanted a nice 
broiled mutton chop, basted with some nice hard butter, not that 
soft, oily stuff that was in the tins. 1 wanted a nice baker's roll, 
with hard butter off the ice, and a nice cup of tea, with some 
fresh cream, not condensed milk. 

All the nice things that I ever did for sick people vt hen I lived 
in a rich gentleman's family came into my mind. I knew exactly 
how to do it; I had done it for others. And when I would shut 
my eyes there would be all the things right before me. I could 
see them just as plain as could be. When I fell into a little doze 
of sleep they would haunt me. When I would wake, Oh! how 
hungry I would be for just that; I wanted nothing else. 

It was not the question of money; I had a little, and would 
have got all these things, but they were not there to be got. 

So one night I prayed nearly all night, and asked the Lord to 
take all desire out of me for everything I could not get, and help 
me to like and relish just what T could get. About four o'clock in 
the morning I fell asleep, and woke about six; and every bit of 
desire for mutton chop, and rolls, and hard butter, and fresh 
cream was gone, and I was as free from the desire as if I had 
never had it. I laughed, and cried, and praised the Lord for His 
loving mercy. 

No one who has not had the experience can tell anything 
about what it means to be weak, and sick, and hungry, and where 
you cannot get a little of what your appetite craves. But our God 
is a wonderful deliverer. And then the grand old text that He 
gave me when I first started, "My God will supply all of your 
need," — how true. Praise His name. Amen. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 



CAPE P ALMAS — HOW I GOT THERE — BROTHER WARE — BROTHER 
SHARPER'S EXPERIENCE — A GREAT REVIVAL. 

I had been trying to get to Cape Palmas for three years before 
I reached there. Dear Mr. Harmon, then pastor of Mt. Scott 
Methodist Church, had so kindly written for me to come, and had 
arranged for me, and I had got my things packed. But no steamer 
called at Monrovia that would stop at Cape Palmas; so I had 
waited two or three months. 

Then a rumor came that small-pox was raging at Cape Palmas; 
another delay for me. There were no railways, or cable cars run- 
ning yet; neither were there livery stables, where one could hire 
a team. These are things that are yet to be; until then, we must 
wait, and of course pray a little. However, it turned out all right 
in my case. 

Brother Harmon died, and after his death Reverend Ware had 
charge. He was so different in spirit and government from 
Brother Harmon. He had treated me most kindly at Monrovia. 
w r ith some little exceptions, which I did not mind so much, for 
when it came to temperance and holiness, there are ministers and 
laymen in this country, who, notwithstanding their light and 
privilege, stand just where he, and others, stand on these points. 

Then he was very bitterly opposed to a woman preaching, or 
taking any part in a public way. He had a very high apprecia- 
tion of that especial text of Paul's: " Let your women keep silence 
in the churches, and if they would know anything, let them ask 
their husbands at home; " and, as I had no husband at home to 
ask, I thought according to my orders in John, I had my author- 
ity from the words of the Master: 

"Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you, and ordained 
you, that you might go and bring forth fruit, that your fruit 

(431) 



432 



Autobiography of 



might remain, and that whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my 
name, He may give it you." 

Brother Pitman was pastor at Monrovia in 1882. He was a 
prince of Israel. A great loss the church in Liberia has sustained, 
and one, I fear, that will not be easily replaced in Africa. Never 
shall I forget his fatherly kindness to me. Peace be to his memory. 

So it was fortunate for me that I lived at Monrovia when he 
had charge. He received me as a Christian brother, and stood by 
me in all the work of the church, in the revival meetings, prayer 
meetings, and week night preaching services. The church pros- 
pered under his administration. The Lord was with us, and we 
had a blessed time. 

Brother Pitman had lived in America several years — I don't 
know just how many — but he lived in the family of Dr. Gracy, who 
was the noble editor of the Northern Christian Advocate; so he was 
quite American in his ideas, but nothing of the pompous sort. 
He was simply a true, and a clear-headed, logical preacher. How 
glad we were when he preached. Somebody always got fed on 
the finest of the wheat. 

He had sought, and clearly obtained, the blessing of sanctifi- 
cation. He enjoyed the fulness and lived the life, and when he 
preached, it was in demonstration of the spirit and power. 

I remember one Wednesday night; it*was prayer meeting 
night. It was true I had been feeling weak and poorly all da}^, 
but somehow I felt especially led to go to meeting that night. 
The distance from Sister Payne's (my home) was not very long; 
about two blocks. I walked very slowly, but after I got in my 
back was weak, and pained me dreadfully, so that I said, "I wish 
I hadn't come." But I felt somehow that the Lord had sent me, 
so I prayed, and asked Him to strengthen me for the word He 
would have me give, if I spoke at all. 

Brother Pitman was leading the meeting that night; there 
was nothing out of the ordinary way of things, but a good meet- 
ing. By and by the Spirit prompted my heart with these words: 
"With the mouth confession is made unto salvation." 

I was impressed that God meant something by it, yet I did 
not know just how I was going to be led in speaking; so just before 
the meeting closed I arose and said: 

" Brother Pitman, I feel the Lord wants me to speak a word." 

" Certainly, Sister Smith; speak on." 



Amanda Smith. 



433 



I spoke as the Lord led me on, confessing Christ, and what 
He had done for a soul definitely. I did not know anything about 
Brother Pitman's experience; I had never spoken to him about it, 
and did not know he was interested in the subject of holiness at 
all, only I knew he seemed to possess the spirit of holiness; I felt 
it in his conversation and preaching. 

After I was through I took my seat. Brother Pitman sprang 
to his feet in a moment, and said, " The Lord has sent that mes- 
sage to me;" then he went on with how, some three months before, 
as nearly as I can recollect, he had received this distinct blessing 
of sanctification, and was helped wonderfully to see the way clearly 
through the teaching in that grand, old, pioneer holiness periodi- 
cal, "Guide to Holiness." 

"I see as you have spoken, Sister Smith," he continued, "my 
mistake has been, I have not definitely confessed what the Lord 
has done for me. But I do here and now confess, before God and 
these people, that He has cleansed and sanctified my heart." 

And from that time forth, he never swerved from preaching 
or testifying to this great blessing, definitely sought and received 
by faith. 

God made him a great blessing to the people everywhere he 
went. I believe it was the power of this grace that enabled him 
to endure as he did; for, being a thorough native of the Da tribe, 
he had much to endure. He, like Paul, had false brethren to 
contend with. How my heart has ached, as I have seen and heard 
things that would have kindled a blaze that would have been 
unquenchable in the church and community; but he was patient 
and true, through all. 

Then, I think it was in 1883, Brother Ware had charge. The 
change was great. Some were glad, but I believe most were sorry. 

But he and I got on nicely. I always consulted him about my 
meetings; and, to my face, he would always give me the greatest 
liberty; and I would be led to think that we saw together; though 
he did not often take much part; he would say: 

"I give you full charge, Sister Smith, whenever you want to 
have any meetings. Of course I will not be able to be present 
at all of them, but all the brethren will stand by you, and it will 
be all right." 

I would have afternoon meetings for the young converts, to 
instruct them in Bible lessons; he would come in and sit way 



434 



Autobiography op 



back, and listen, but that was all. He would generally go out 
when I was about to close. I went on, carefully, but I went on. 
And God surely was with us, and blessed us. 

I went to Bassa in 1885. After I got to Bassa and met the 
Bishop, I told him how we had heard at Monrovia that he was to 
spend three months in that region round about, take a trip to 
Bepora, etc. He said it was the first he had known of it; that he 
had made an arrangement Avith a certain steamer that was to pick 
him up at Bassa, and leave him at Cape Palmas, and said this was 
my chance to go. 

"I have not come prepared to go to Cape Palmas," I replied, 
" but I have been waiting for three years to go. Just when I got 
ready some months ago, word came that there was small-pox 
there, so I could not go." 

""Well," said the Bishop, 4 'this is your chance, Amanda." 

Just then dear Brother Pitman came in. I told him, and he 
said, " I think, Sister Smith, this is your chance." 

"Well," I said, "if you will take Frances (my little native 
girl) to your home in Paynesville, and keep her till I come back, I 
think I will go. Do you think Sister Pitman will care? I would 
go and see her myself, if I could." 

"That will be all right, Sister Smith; Frances shall fare as 
the other children do, and if you are satisfied with that, I will 
take her." 

Sister Pitman was a grand, good woman. She was a splendid 
housekeeper, and was also a dressmaker and tailor. They never 
had any children of their own, but all the native boys and girls 
they had in their family were well raised and well trained; and I 
knew Frances would fare as well there as if I had her myself. 

May God ever bless Sister Pitman. How I sympathize with 
her in her loss. 

So when he returned from the Conference in Monrovia, he took 
her with him to his home at Paynesville. 

I think it was on Wednesday, February 17th, a steamer came 
to Bassa. The Bishop said we would go. I had but little to get 
together; only just what would do me, as I thought, for the three 
weeks I had planned to be away. So I had to send for my things 
after I got to Cape Palmas. 

When we went to get into the boat to go to the steamer, a 
messenger came to say the captain sent word he would not stop at 



Amanda Smith. 



485 



Cape Palmas. and for no one to come from the shore. 4 4 Oh, 
Bishop." I said, " what will you do? " 

" Oh, we will just go." 

" Shall I go, then?" 

11 Oh, yes, come on," he said, quietly, but with such perfect 
confidence. T just held my breath, and did as I was told. 

The man remonstrated, but the Bishop said to the men, 
44 Push off:" and off we did push. When we got alongside, the men 
aboard the steamer hailed us. 

44 Where are you going? " 

The men gave the word, " To Cape Palmas." 

" We are not going to stop at Cape Palmas," one of the officers 
shouted; " the captain sent word ashore." 

When they saw Bishop Taylor was a white man they let down 
the steps. The Bishop said he wanted to see the captain. It was 
just dinner time — six o'clock — when we got on board. Of course 
they did not want that I should come up; but the Bishop said to me 
quietly, "Come right along, Amanda." 

Brother Turner, one of the Bishop's missionaries, a genuine 
black man, who had been out but about two years, was with him. 
He was going to Sinoe. We kept close to the Bishop, for we knew 
if he succeeded, we would. 

Oh! how vexed the officers were. But of course they said 
nothing to Bishop Taylor. They were civil to him. 

The Bishop had no baggage; he never did carry any about 
with him in Africa: simply a small basket, and his bed rolled up. 
To look at it you would think it Avas a surveyor's instruments; that 
was generally his outfit. But some of the rest of us did have 
something in the shape of a small trunk. When the officers saw 
this they said: 

"We are not going to stop at Cape Palmas; don't lift the bag- 
gage." 

So I stood quietly while the Bishop went in to see the cap- 
tain: or rather send word to him. and there was a pause of fifteen 
minutes, or so. I stood trembling in my boots almost, for it was 
about five miles back to shore, and I thought, " Oh, dearie me, if I 
have got to gobackin this darkness all alone! " So I said, "Oh! Lord, 
help the Bishop, and bless that captain, and make him let us go." 

While they were gone with a message to the captain, I slipped 
softly up to the Bishop, and said: 



436 



Autobiography of 



" Bishop do you think we will have to go back to shore ?" 
" Oh, no," he said, in perfect confidence, 4 'it will be all right." 
And sure enough, word came to the Bishop from the captain: 
" All right; we will take you." 

My! didn't I whirl? Dinner! I didn't want any. I was full 
of joy and gladness. I hadn't any room for anything else until 
next morning. 

Now, then, you may say what you please, explain it as you like, 
but if Bishop Taylor had not been a white man, not simply a 
Bishop, but a white man, as sure as this world, we would have had 
to come all that way back to shore in the night. And I did thank 
the Lord down in my heart for a white Bishop that time. 

We were two nights and a day on the vessel and arrived at 
Cape Palmas about ten a. m. Friday. 

I shall never forget the delight of the dear people when they 
saw the Bisop and myself. The children crowded around like he 
had L been a father, more than a Bishop. He was so kind, and 
shook hands with them, and had a pleasant word for all. The 
little, native boys danced and laughed, and seemed so glad. 

When I saw the Christian spirit so manifest among the people 
toward the Bishop and myself, I came nearly crying out. Oh! it 
was so different from what it seemed to be in Bassa. 

We were conducted from the landing at Cape Palmas to 
Sister Harmon's; she received us gladly, and entertained us 
kindly. 

Sunday was to be quarterly meeting; so it seemed to be such 
a propitious time for us to arrive just then. 

Brother Ware had notified the brethren, and the Bishop held 
his quarterly conference Friday afternoon at four o'clock, and 
preached on Saturday night to a full congregation. Of course 
everybody turned out, Baptists, Episcopalians, and Methodists, 
(those were the only denominations at Cape Palmas), senators, 
lawyers, deacons, etc. 

Among the dignitaries I noticed his honor, Bishop Ferguson. 
It was the first time I had ever seen him. 

But everybody seemed to be interested in this American 
Bishop. And he preached a grand, old-fashioned Holy Ghost 
sermon, as everybody knows he can. I think that Bishop Fer- 
guson was rather pleased, until he heard the good Bishop speak of 
standing on a hogshead, in California, I think it was, and preach- 



Amanda Smith. 



437 



ing to the multitude. The idea of lowering his dignity! He 
seemed to look almost disgusted. 

But what capped the climax with them, after the Bishop got 
through, he told them who I was, and spoke some kind words of 
me, and of my work, and told them if they would stand by me I 
would do them good, etc. Then he said, " I will ask Sister Smith 
to speak a few words to you." 

I lifted my heart and asked the Lord to help me. And He 
did. And the people were blessed. 

Poor Bishop Ferguson! He hung his head all the time I was 
speaking, and went out as soon as he could; and I don't suppose 
he has heard Bishop Taylor since. 

Poor Brother Ware had strong proclivities toward that church 
at that time. His eldest son, who had been brought up, and 
trained and converted in the Methodist Church, had left it, and 
gone over to the Episcopal Church. 

And, by the way, that is one good thing the Methodist Church 
has done in Liberia; for if she has not done so much in the con- 
version of the heathen, she has certainly done her part in furnish- 
ing workers for the Episcopal Church. I don't believe they have 
a single worker, except a few among the natives; for the matron 
in their orphanage, the teachers in their schools, or the workers 
on their farms, come out of the Methodist Church; and those in 
the church that know anything about real conversion, have been 
converted or sanctified in the Methodist Church; so if ever a 
church ought to thank God for Methodism in Africa, notwith- 
standing her faults and failings, it ought to be this church! 

But strange to say, they do not; but, like the Jesuits, they 
cease not day or night, in every possible way, to disturb and 
proselyte. 

I tried my best to be as unselfish as I could, and show in every 
possible way that I was a Christian and had no other object than 
to help everybody I could, in every way I could. I did not advo- 
cate a new doctrine, or start a new church. I told the people this 
was not my errand in Africa. There were churches enough 
already. All that was needed was the spirit of full consecration 
to God, and a baptism for real service. 

When I began my temperance work in Cape Palmas I wrote 
Bishop Ferguson, and the several ministers in his diocese, and sent 
them our pledge card, and tracts, and our constitution and by- 



438 



Autobiography of 



laws, so that they might see for themselves what I was trying to 
do; that it was nothing in the corner, or in the dark; that they 
might know exactly what I was teaching among the people; and I 
asked his honor, the Bishop, if he would be kind enough to 
preach a sermon and explain my object; as I knew how the people 
in general are given to extravagance in trying to tell anything. 

As this was Gospel temperance, to help Christian men and 
women on to a higher platform of Christian character and Christ- 
ian life, it never entered my head but they would be willing to co- 
operate on this platform, as it was purely undenominational, 
and had met such favor in England and America while on this 
basis. 

But the good Bishop replied in a short note, sa\ing he would 
consider the matter, and let me know later on. In a few days he 
wrote me a great, lengthy epistle of five or six pages; beautifully 
written, for he certainly wrote a beautiful hand. But I must con- 
fess the best thing about that letter was the beautiful handwrit- 
ing. A regular General Conference document, saying he could 
have nothing to do with the subject I had written him about, and 
pointing out a clause in our Methodist discipline, saying that was 
all that was needful. 

Well, I was ashamed to say anything about it except to one or 
two persons; for I had always heard him spoken so highly of; and 
I was proud of him, being a black Bishop; and knowing that he 
knew the condition and the suffering among the poor natives on 
account of strong drink, and among the Liberians as well, I thought 
I had a right to hope for, at least, sympathy. 

Perhaps I would not have thought much about it if he had 
been a white man. But I find that human nature is the same in 
black men, even in Africa, as in white men in America. It is the 
same old story everywhere: " None but Jesus can do helpless sin- 
ners good." 

Well, the Lord helped me, and I went on with the work, and 
men and women, } T oung and old, some of all the denominations, 
joined in. But his position toward it had its effect, which is 
natural. 

So, poor Brother Ware, with his Episcopal proclivities, and 
underlying all a strong desire to be a Bishop, had got all the 
official board so fully over to his side in regard to a woman taking 
a public part in a meeting, and had filled them so with prejudice, 



■* 



Amanda Smith. 



439 



that if I had not gone to Cape Palmas with Bishop Taylor. I would 
not have had a shadow of a chance. But when God is on our side, 
you may not fear what man may do. 

Away back in the years before, He had said. " Behold. I have 
set before you an open door, and no man shall shut it." How I 
proved His every word true. 

Brother Ware was not well, so did not get to the Conference at 
Bassa. On Sunday morning we had a great Love Feast. The 
Spirit of the Lord was among us, and at 10:30 the Bishop preached. 
What a sermon! I suppose they had never heard an} thing like it. 
Surely the Lord of Hosts was with us. 

Just after the consecration of the elements for the sacrament, 
as the Bishop was about to proceed in administering, or passing it, 
the steamer signalled, and the good Bishop was notified that he 
must leave. He had already announced that he was to preach to 
the young people and children at three p. M., and had asked all 
the other people to be seated in the gallery, and reserve the body 
of the church for the young people and children. So. when the 
Bishop had to leave, he turned to Brother Ware, and said: 

" Brother Ware, if you are not well. Sister Amanda Smith will 
take the service this afternoon in my stead." 

"Yes." Brother Ware said, "we shall be glad to have Sister 
Smith take the service." 

I saw it was an awful pill, but he swallowed it as meekly as he 
could. 

Oh! how the Lord did bless me that afternoon. 

At night I took the service again. The power of the Lord was 
present among the people. One good sister in the Episcopal 
Church. Sister Tubman, got sanctified that night, as a seal to my 
first work at Cape Palmas. The Lord gave her light and help, as 
I went on talking from the fourteenth chapter of John, fourteenth 
verse: If ye shall ask anything in my name. I will do it." 

What a stir it made. The people were up in arms, and the 
cat got out! 

"Great Lord, that woman can preach. That ain't no so-so 
talk. God is in that woman." 

And so it went the rounds. They said. "'What is the matter 
with Brother Ware? Why don't he let her preach? " 

Then a number of the brethren called on him. and asked him 
to give me an appointment, as they all wanted to hear me speak. 



440 



Autobiography of 



But that, I think, made it worse. I called on him. He seemed 
pleasant and treated me kindly, but never said a word to me about 
taking a meeting. For two weeks then I went on quietly, holding 
afternoon meetings and giving Bible readings on the subject of 
consecration and holiness. This was the beginning of the wonder- 
ful blessing at Cape Palmas. 

At the expiration of two weeks, Brother Ware was obliged to 
leave for Monrovia; but he called his local brethren, Brother Os 
Tubman, old Father Jenkins, Brother Dennis, Brother Thompson, 
who was Vice-President of the Republic and a local preacher, 
Brother Sharper, and Brother Bowen, who had the pastoral charge 
of the church at Mt. Tubman. 

No one of these brethren were to give their appointments to 
any one, under penalty of having to answer at the quarterly con- 
ference. Some of them said: 

44 Brother Ware, we believe Sister Smith is a woman of God, 
and she came here with Bishop Taylor. He knows her, and en- 
dorses her, and we ought to give her a chance." 

But his reply was, 44 1, and not Bishop Taylor, am pastor of the 
church." 

So, according to the laws of the Medesand Persians, the decis- 
ion must not be altered. 

Another week had passed, and it had come Saturday. With 
all that was said, I kept quiet, and said but little to any one. Some 
of the people wanted to know if there was any misunderstanding 
between me and Brother Ware. 

44 No, nor there never has been, as I know of." 

I must confess it was a little embarrassing to me; but it helped 
me to see God as I had never seen Him before. Out of all these 
brethren, there was not one of them who dared give me an appoint- 
ment, except old Father Dennis. He was a man of strong moral 
courage and good, broad common sense; a highly intelligent man; 
and he knew every weak spot in the whole government, as well as 
the strong; and he knew the discipline of the Methodist Church 
as well, if not better, than any other man in the Republic; and, 
notwithstanding all this, he was very peculiar, and, withal, eccen- 
tric. So he said to some, of the brethren, that if Ware wanted to 
have him up in the quarterly conference for giving his appoint- 
ment, he might do it. He did not care. 

He came to me on Saturday, and asked me if I would go to 



Amanda Smith. 



441 



Mt. Tubman, which was about two miles from Latrobe, and take 
his appointment; he was not feeling very well, anyhow. 
I told him, " Yes, I would." 

" The brethren tell me that Brother Ware will have me up for 
it; and I told them I didn't care." 

"Well," I said, "if you are willing to risk it, I will go." 

So I went out on Saturday afternoon, Sister Harmon and I. 

Mt. Tubman is a beautiful spot. How x>lain I seem to see the 
little church on the hill. What times of blessing I have had; and 
this man, and that man were born there. 

I was not very strong, so they arranged that Sister Harmon 
and I should go out in the carriage. So, in a little while we were 
ready. The carriage drove up, with a nice little black bullock, 
and we were soon seated, and off. But we had not gone far, when 
the bullock began to cut African capers. 

First he backed and then he ran up on one side of the bank, 
and came near tumbling the carriage over. Then we got him 
down and he went on a little ways, then he made another break 
at the other side of the road, and then he stopped. I thought it 
was a good chance to dismount; and so I did, and footed it the bal- 
ance of the way, which was more than half way. 

I went to Brother Bowen's and stayed all night. How kind 
Brother and Sister Bowen were. They did all they could to make 
me comfortable. I could see that Brother Bowen was a little em- 
barrassed, as he was pastor. He said, "Brother Ware's orders 
were that the brethren should take their appointments in order." 

But, Brother Bowen was a good man, and had good sense, and 
was reasonable; but he was a little afraid of his superior. 

I talked, and saog, and told him many things about his own 
country for he had gone to Liberia when quite a young man. 
Many of his friends would come in: then they would go out and 
seem to have a quiet talk together. I prayed. I knew I had not 
gone myself, but that God had sent me; and I waited to see Him 
get the victory. 

Sunday morning came. There was a splendid congregation. 
Just as it was time to open the service, who should come in but 
dear, old Brother Dennis. 

I saw Brother Bowen was glad. He at once asked him to take 
the service; and he got up and said he had asked me to come out 
there and take his appointment, as he was not very well; then, 



442 



Autobiography of 



in the morning, as he felt better, he thought he had better come 
out and explain, for he knew the Methodist discipline, and he was 
not afraid of anybody. Everybody knew that was old man Dennis, 
and it was all true. 

So that was my introduction. If ever I prayed for God to help 
me, I did that day. And He did. Then I stayed and took part in 
the class meeting after the service. Then I addressed the Sabbath 
School, and took the service at night. The church was crowded. 
Oh! how the Lord helped me to speak. I thought, " This is my 
last day here, so I will do everything I can." 

After I was through speaking at night I gave the invitation to 
sinners to come forward and seek the Lord; and almost immedi- 
ately eight men came forward; four were converted that night. 

I thought that my strength was gone; but it seemed to me 
that God gave mo a double portion. I had no further trouble with 
Brother Bowen. 

The news spread like wildfire. The people came from all 
directions. We went on for two weeks without a break. We had 
several all night meetings, and all day. In that meeting some old 
men were converted that were never known to pray, or be serious 
before. I went to see them from house to house, and sat down 
and talked with them, and explained the way of faith. Oh! how 
God put his seal on the work. This was the beginning. In this 
meeting Charlie Gray and Brother Cox were sanctified. 

I had worked hard, and was so weary I thought I must come 
home for a rest. So on Monday I came home to Sister Harmon's. 

Now, the two weeks' Bible readings that I had held prior to 
going to Mt. Tubman, had laid a foundation, and God had blessed 
the people. 

Tuesday night was the prayer meeting night. I had had a 
little rest on Monday after I got home, and on Tuesday ni#ht 
was the prayer meeting at Mt. Scott Church. Brother Thompson 
called and asked me if I would lead prayer meeting that night. I 
told him I was very weary and needed a rest. But he said he 
would be glad if I would take it. I told him I would do the best I 
could. I was so very weak, but I asked the Lord to strengthen 
me, as I did so often. Oh! how many times He has heard and 
answered that prayer. Blessed be His name. That night the 
work began at Latrobe. And what a tidal wave swept all over 
Cape Palmas. Oh! it was wonderful. 



Amanda Smith. 



443 



I have gone to the church at six o'clock in the evening to hold 
a prayer meeting before preaching, and have never gone outside 
the door till six next morning. 

When we did go in for salvation we didn't play, but went in. 
G-od converted sinners, reclaimed backsliders, and sanctified and 
established believers. 

The Baptists fought a little. They were very firmly fixed. 
Once in grace, always in grace, no matter what you say or do. 
But with all the opposition, God's chariot rolled on; and many of 
them were brought to realize the power of Jesus, and were saved 
fully. Glory to Jesus. 

How well I remember Brother Sharper, one of our old local 
preachers. He was a man of more than ordinary intelligence, 
and good, broad, common sense. He was one of the best local 
preachers we had. He had a nice, comfortable, little home of his 
own, and a very nice wife and baby boy. When I first held my 
Bible readings Brother Sharper became very much interested in 
the subject of holiness. The Holy Spirit convicted him of his 
need of a clean heart. He was a man of high moral character and 
Christian integrity, and stood high in the community and the 
church. 

When the Spirit of God got hold of his conscience, he did like 
so many; he began to reason with himself: " I know I am convicted, 
and I have been a Christian all these years, and I will just go on 
growing in grace, and purity will come." 

But, poor man, he had it wrong end first! The very best chance 
for growing in grace, really and successfully, is to get the cleans- 
ing and all obstruction to growth out. As the Psalmist suggests: 
44 The clean heart, then the teaching of transgressors Thy way." 
The Psalmist had it right. Praise the Lord. 

Poor Brother Sharper used to come to the Bible readings, but 
all at once I missed him. He didn't come. I would call around 
at his house and have a little chat. I didn't bore him. He was 
always glad to see me, and always had a good reason for not com- 
ing to the meeting. 

He was a most inveterate smoker, but he never let me see him 
with his pipe in his mouth. He was much of a gentleman in his 
bearing. On Sunday I had been calling on some friends on the 
next street; on my way home I called in, and there was Brother 
Sharper in his nice little home, all alone, his Bible on a chair by 



444 



Autobiography op 



him, and his pipe. He had read and smoked and fallen asleep. 
When I called to him, poor fellow, how embarrassed he was. I 
saw it, and tried to help him by asking him what he was reading, 
particularly. He laughed and said: 

"Sister Smith, I didn't mean for you to see me with that old 
pipe." 

" Oh, no matter," I said, "you and the Lord will settle it by 
and by." 

So, after a little chat, I went home to pray and ask the Lord 
to deliver Brother Sharper. He began coming to the meetings, but 
seemed depressed. And he didn't stay till the close of the meet- 
ings. But one night at prayer meetings, I was leading, and I asked 
any one who had the desire to seek the blessing of a clean heart to 
come and kneel at the altar. A number came; among others, 
Brother Sharper. He came like he meant business. He was not 
a demonstrative or emotional man, and when I saw him kneel and 
clutch the altar railing, I said to myself, " Sharper is in for it." 

One and another prayed for themselves, and God set them at 
liberty. Oh! what a meeting it was! 

Brother Sharper groaned and struggled. It came to a close 
about eleven o'clock. A number had got blessed, and we arose 
and sang the doxology. Brother Sharper had not moved from his 
position. But I knew the Lord would take care of him. 

Just as we were about to sing, Brother Sharper sprang to his 
feet and shouted at the top of his voice: 

"But you must go through! "You must go througn! Victory! 
Victory! Victory!" 

He went over the tops of the seats like a streak of light. I 
tried to catch him. I was afraid he would kill himself. But he 
swung from my grasp as though he had been oiled. Oh! what a 
shout. When that tremendous wave had passed over, he calmed 
down as quiet as a lamb, and he smiled. He was a handsome man 
anyhow: but this night he looked beautiful. 

He stood up in front by the altar and faced the congregation, 
and said: 

"Sister Smith, I want to tell what the Lord has done for me. 
I have had an awful struggle for days over this question. I thought 
I would stay away from the meetings; but that didn't help me. 
And you know the Sunday you were around to my house, and 
caught me with the Bible and my pipe?" 

"Yes," I said. 



Amanda Smith. 



445 



" Well, there was where I stuck; but I thought if I did every- 
thing else all right, the Lord would not require me to give up my 
pipe; and I did not know it was such an idol until I tried to give 
it up. Oh! how it held me. You know I love my wife and child; 
but I felt I could give up either of them easier than I could give 
up my pipe. I would smoke, the last thing before I went to bed, 
and the first thing in the morning, and sometimes I would get up 
two or three times in the night to have a smoke; and if there was 
not a match, or fire, in the house to light my pipe, I would walk a 
mile to get it. 

" The other night I lay down and fell into a doze of sleep; and 
I dreamed I saw a great host marching. They were divided into 
two companies. Oh! such singing I never heard. It was wonder- 
ful! The sanctified host was ahead, and outsang the justified 
host. As they marched they sang. I stood and looked at them. 
I said, well, I will join the justified company. They will get in, 
too, just as well as the others. So I joined in the song with them, 
for I wanted them to keep up with the host ahead. Oh! how I sang 
with all my might; but the sanctified host seemed to out-sing us. 

"In our march we came to a culvert in the road, and I thought 
* I will watch and see how they get through there.' I saw when 
they got up to it, they all, with one accord, bowed low, and went 
through, and struck up their song on the other side. And when 
the justified company came up to the culvert, they stopped, and 
there seemed to be quite a contention about how to get through. 
But not one of them stooped. After a while they divided, and 
walked around on either side, and went on. When I came up to 
it I started to go round, first on the right; but a voice confronted 
me and said, 'but you must go through.' Then I made an effort to 
go to the left; and again a voice said, 'but you must go through.' 
so I tried the third time, and again the same words, 'but you must 
go through.' And glory to God, the tobacco is gone, and I have 
got through! " 

As he stood and told that wonderful experience, which beg- 
gars description, the spirit of the Lord fell on the people, and it 
was Wonderful. 

Poor Brother Sharper preached with a power and unction 
that he had not known before. And the last I heard of him, he 
was at one of Bishop Taylor's mission stations on the river, work- 
ing for God. 



446 



Autobiography of 



The meeting went on, and many of the natives got saved. 
John Yancy got saved. 

One night we were singing that victorious hymn, I call it (for 
when it is sung properly, it generally carries blessing with it) — 

"Ah! many years my longing heart 
Had sighed, had longed to know 
The virtue of the Savior's blood, 
That washes white as snow." 

"There is power in Jesus' blood, 
There is power in Jesus' blood, 
There is power in Jesus' blood, 
To wash me white as snow." 

I had sung this hymn in the meetings, and the people had 
learned it, and they could sing it as only colored people can sing. 
John Yancy had been seeking the blessing for several weeks. He 
was converted, and had been a consistent member of the church 
for two years or more. But, as he said, "He felt that God had 
something more for him;" and as he sat in the church that night, 
while we were singing, the Holy Ghost fell on him. Oh! how he 
shouted. 

"Oh! yes, there is power in Jesus' blood to wash me white as 
snow. Yes, there is power in the blood. Yes, there is power in 
Jesus' blood." 

Every time he said it it went like an electric shock through 
the house, and the people seemed to be swayed by the mighty 
power. 

Everybody believed in John Yancy's sanctification. The 
people all had known him from a little boy. He was raised right 
up there among them. And I never heard a soul express a doubt 
about John Yancy's life and testimony. He was a rank, native, 
heathen boy, born in heathenism. He had been brought out of 
the country, and the most of his raising, and where he took his 
name, was from Mr. Allen Yancy, a good man, formerly of 
America. God wonderfully sanctified him, and his dear wife, also, 
shortly after John got the blessing. 

On Friday night, the last night of our meeting for the week, 
there were several very interesting cases who were seeking pardon; 
but they had not come out into the clear light. One was a Congo 
man. I felt very anxious about them, lest Satan should get the 



Amanda Smith. 



447 



advantage of them. I Avas very weary in body, but on Saturday 
afternoon, I thought I must go and see after those seekers. 

Where this Congo man lived, was on the back street, as they 
called it; and the people who lived on that street were nearly all 
Congos, with the exception of two or three families. It was not 
one of the prominent streets, but it was the prettiest street, I 
thought, in Cape Palmas. It was wide, and had several very 
pretty, little cottages on it. 

I found the place where the man lived. He was sitting in his 
own yard, under a pretty arbor, talking to some one. He was 
quite surprised to see me. But I told him why I came. I told 
him I was anxious about him, as he was seeking the Lord. 

So I sat down, took out my Testament, and began to read and 
explain a few passages of Scripture on faith, and how to exercise 
it. The Lord helped me, and helped the man. Then I sang; and 
in a little while I had a number of earnest listeners around me. 
Then I prayed. 

This was all right out in the yard. When this was finished I 
thought I would go home; but a woman said: 

" Mrs. Smith, there is some one in such a house, sick, who 
wants to know if you will come and pray with him." 

So I went with the woman. I talked, and read the blessed 
Word and explained it as the Spirit led me; then prayed, sang a 
verse, and left. 

When I got downstairs, a little girl came and said her mother 
was sick and had heard the singing, and had sent to beg me to 
come, if but for a moment. Sal did. And so I went on and made 
eight calls of the same kind, and prayed, and sang, and talked. 

The Lord blessed this poor, sick woman; and a short time after 
this she died. Sister Harmon and all wondered what had become 
of me; for I had left home at four o'clock to be gone only an hour 
or two, as I thought; but I didn't get home until eight o'clock in 
the evening. The cases were so interesting, and I got so absorbed 
and carried away, that I forgot all about my weariness and weak- 
ness till I got home and sat down. Then it came over me like a 
great wave; and I trembled like a reed in the wind. 

As I think of it now, I wonder how I ever went through all I 
did. Sometimes I have started to church feeling so weak, and I 
have prayed every step of the way; and there have been times 
when I have stood up to speak, I have felt as it were a hand press 



448 



Autobiography of 



my back, and seem to hold me up while I would deliver the mes 
sage to the people. Blessed be the name of God. How well I 
know His mighty touch of strength and power. 

There was a Mrs. Delia Williams, whose house I went into 
and prayed that afternoon, on this same street. 

Just inside her gate, in the yard, there stood a beautiful bread 
fruit tree. As I passed out I said, "that would be a nice tree 
to hold a little meeting under." 

"Oh! Mrs. Smith," she said, "will you come here and hold a 
meeting for us here on this street? We need it. These people do 
not go to church much. They will not go." 

This woman was what you might call a kind of half way 
Christian. She belonged to the church, but she was not straight. 
She was always seeming to seek peace, but could not find it, 
because she did not give up to God. Poor thing, she was good- 
hearted, and wanted to see everybody get all the good they could. 
So I said to her: 

"I will see about it, and let you know. Of course that bush 
there in the street would have to be cleared away." 

"Oh!" she said, "if you will come, I will have that done. 
And I can put a table and some chairs out, and put some mats 
down. 

"I might come Monday," I said; "but, however, don't do 
anything until you hear from me." 

I kept very quiet. I never told even Mrs. Harmon's people. I 
knew if the word was said, the people that considered themselves 
not Congos would all come, and my purpose to do these non-church- 
going people good would be lost. 

But somehow it got out; first thing I knew Monday, somebody 
came to me and said, "Mrs. Smith, I hear you are to hold a meet- 
ing on the back street this afternoon." 

"Who said so?" 

"Well," they said, " Delia Williams has had the bush all cut 
down, and they are getting ready over there, and said you were to 
come, and all the people are looking for you." 

Oh!dearieme how I felt. u Now," I thought, " there will be a 
great crowd. That was not what I wanted at all. I just wanted 
to go quietly and have a meeting for these poor Congo people." 

By and by another came; and so it went. Mrs. Harmon 
said: 



Amanda Smith. 



449 



"Why, you never told me anything about it." 

"No," I said, " for the very reason I was afraid there would 
be a great excitement about it." 

She laughed and said, " You try to keep anything quiet here, 
and you will miss it." 

So I got ready and went; and there, sure enough, under that 
pretty tree stood a table with a white cloth on it, a hymn book, a 
pitcher of water, and tumbler; chairs all around, and mats down, 
and there the people were. As I drew near I smiled to myself, 
and yet was fit to cry. I said, " Lord, help me this once." 

I read and explained the Word as best I couid on consecration 
and faith, pointing out some of the sins and hindrances to the 
exercise of faith for any blessing that God was willing to give. 

The Lord did help me that afternoon as I talked. Several 
good sisters had come who had got the baptism of the Spirit, and 
knew how to pray; so I asked if there were ariy there who desired 
we should pray for them, and I asked them to stand up, and several 
did so. Among them was Brother Sharper's wife. 

Dear Sister Sharper! I shall never forget her. She was a 
woman of no ordinary intelligence; and she was desperately in 
earnest. I asked them to come forward and kneel around the 
table (for we had no altar), and she came. Oh! how she prayed. 
And when the Holy Ghost struck her (for it did) she whirled like 
a top, round and round, and round and round! We could not 
touch her. She just went like a streak, through the bush, out 
into the street. I thought she would kill herself. Oh! I was 
frightened. As she rolled over, she kept saying, "Glory, glory, 
glory to Jesus! glory! " 

The sisters followed after her, and tried to hold her, but they 
could not. By and by she sprang up all at once; and didn't she 
shout! She marched home, and there was not a scratch or a 
bruise on her. It was wonderful. I shall never forget the day 
when Jesus washed her sins away. Glory to His name! 

These were some of the wonderful days at Cape Palmas. And 
still there's more to follow. 

Brother Ware did not get back for six weeks; so we had full 
swing, and God was with us. When he did come, how surprised 
he wa». 

Every Sunday, prior to his coming, a number were taken in. 
The first Sunday after he came he took in nine or ten; I don't 



450 Autobiography of Amanda Smith. 

know what the number was exactly. I never like to number 
Israel. The record is on high. But I know one Sunday after this, 
one of the leaders said to him, just before the meeting closed (as 
he had not opened the doors of the church to receive any mem- 
bers), " Brother Ware, there are several persons who would like to 
join the church," and brought them up; and he refused to take 
them in, because he had not been notified of their desire to join 
two or three days before, and said that he would not receive any 
more in unless their names were given to him two or three days 
before, and he could see them, and ha\e a talk with them himself. 

It seemed to throw a damper on the work. Everybody seemed 
to understand what it meant. But the Lord of Hosts was with us; 
and the God of Jacob was our refuge; and we hid, and went on. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 



EMIGRATION TO LIBERIA — SCHOOLS OF LIBERIA — MISSION SCHOOLS 
— FALSE IMPRESSIONS — IGNORANCE AND HELPLESSNESS OF 
EMIGRANTS — AFRICAN ARISTOCRACY. 

I am often asked if I favor colored people's emigrating to Li- 
beria, Africa. 

My answer is, 44 Yes," and " No." 

Yes, if the right kind of emigrants go. For in this country, 
if the right kind of emigrants come, we need have no fears. But 
it is the flood of ignorant Italians, uneducated and untrained, and 
poor Polish Jews, and Irish, and Germans, who have no interest 
in America whatever, only for what they can get out of it, have 
no love for its institutions, no love for its government, have not 
been taught any of its principles, don't know anything about 
them, and don't care to — these are the people that we don't want 
in America; women ignorant, men ignorant, and, of course, herds 
of children equally ignorant; worse than the heathen in Africa, 
and much harder to enlighten, because they have been steeped in 
Romanism, and the African comes only with his superstitions, 
which he soon drops, under civilized and Christian influences. 

Now, without there has been a vast improvement since I was 
there, the Liberian government is very poor, but makes out to 
manage somehow. And if educated, industrious, intelligent 
black men, with money, would go there, for the love of the race, 
and with the love of God in their hearts, and go with no other 
object than to sacrifice their lives and their money for the good 
of the republic and their fellowmen (and it would take but a 
little while to do that; but this is the only way for black men to 
go to Africa; and J believe this is the proper way), then I say, yes, 
emigrate. 

On the other hand, I say "No." For I don't believe it is 

(451) 



452 



Autobiography of 



right to take out men and women indiscriminately, and gen- 
erally of the poorest that are in the South, or anywhere else, ignor- 
ant of the principles, and the need and duties of the Liberian 
government, as the poor, ignorant Italians, or Polish Jews, or others, 
with no knowledge of the country or its customs, no love for it in 
any way, only what they get out of it, have not been taught, have 
no love of loyalty, only as they may borrow it for selfish ends, then 
I say, "No, No!" 

God bless the Colonization Society. It was raised up at a 
time of imperative need; and so was John Knox, of Scotland; and 
Wesley of England. It did its work. But from the standpoint I 
look at it, I would move its disbandment forthwith, and let the 
white people who want the Negro to emigrate to Africa so as to 
make more room for the great flood of foreigners who come to our 
shores, know that there is a place in the United States for the 
Negro. 

They are real American citizens, and at home. They have 
fought and bled and died, like men, to make this country what it 
is. And if they have got to suffer and die, and be lynched, and 
tortured, and burned at the stake, I say they are at home. 

Like many of the foreigners that come, they are not all indus- 
trious; and to be poor, and ignorant, and lazy, is bad enough at 
home. But to be seven thousand miles away in a heathen country, 
is ten times worse. 

At first sight, it would seem all right; but one cannot know 
Africa in a week, or a month. It is quite easy for a stranger to 
go there and make a call or two, on some of the best people, have 
a fine dinner, big speeches, and all that (all of which they can 
give you), but, Lord bless you, that is not knowing the people, any 
more than it would be knowing the people in Italy because you 
dined with the king. And there is where people are so often de- 
ceived about Liberia, and often the real state of things is misrep- 
resented. What a pity! What a pity! 

I believe if the real facts in the case of that republic had 
been known twenty years ago, she would have been in a better 
condition, financially and commercially, and she would have had 
the sympathy, and respect, and admiration of the world. But the 
Liberians have a false notion that to speak of their failures or mis- 
takes in any way, means to reflect upon them, because it is a black 
republic. But I never thought so, and told them I didn't believe 



Amanda Smith. 



453 



it. But my people often called me " White folks' nigger," any- 
how. So I am in for it, and I don't care. All I care to do is to 
keep in favor with God and man as much as lieth in me. 

During my stay of eight years in Africa there was not a gov- 
ernment school building in the republic, and never had been, as 
far as I could learn; but their schools were held in churches, or 
private houses. I remember there was a high school talked of 
and arranged for during the session of the Legislature in 1885 or 
1886. A Mr. James Lewis, of Sinoe, was appointed by the gov- 
ernment as teacher. I was in Greenville, Sinoe, when he returned 
home from the Legislature with his appointment. 

Of course there was a great deal of talk about this new depart- 
ment of school work. Mr. Lewis was thought to be the man for 
the position. And I thought from the talk that they would erect 
a building for the purpose. But no; when Mr. Lewis opened his 
schooi, with quite a nice number of pupils, it was on the veranda 
of his own private dwelling; and his seat was a hammock! 

Many times I have passed by, or from my window could see 
him, hearing his pupils recite, while he would be lying in the 
hammock. It was right in the public street, so it was not a thing 
done in a corner. I spent some weeks with his sister, Mrs. Mar- 
shall, almost opposite his house; so know whereof I affirm. 

Then there were two other schools called government schools; 
one held in the Congregational Church, and another, said to be for 
natives, held in another part of town. This school was held about 
three times in a week, with an average attendance of five or six 
native boys, who lived in the families generally. The teacher was 
Mrs. Marshall's sister. 

Of course the government had an inspector of schools; but if 
you were a friend of the inspector, or if you had a friend who was 
a friend of the inspector, it had more to do with your keeping the 
school than any other qualification. 

Then people say, " Well, but they have a college." Yes, they 
boast of a college. I often told them that it did not come up to a 
good high school in this country, not in any sense. I think there 
was a time when it was in a better condition than it was when I 
was there. Whatever that was, I don't know. I simply speak of 
what it was during the eight years of my stay. To call it a col- 
lege, I think, is a misnomer; for it led the people to believe that 
we had graded schools, and every requisite preparatory to a col- 
lege course. But that is really not so. 



454 



Autobiography of 



There was no standard school book in any of the schools. The 
children used any kind of books they could get — Sunday School 
books, story books, or any book. Everywhere I went I inquired 
about the schools, and found the same statement. I visited a 
school one day where I found a very nice lot of children, a nging 
from six to fourteen years of age. Many of them seemed to be 
very bright. The}^ came to recite one at a time. 

"Why don't you have them in classes? " I asked. 

"Yes, that is what I would like to do, 1 ' the teacher said. 
"But we haven't got the books. There are not four children in 
the school with books alike. Their parents send them with any 
kind of a book, and I am obliged to use it; and some of the chil- 
dren come and have no book at all; but they come." 

"How do you manage? " 

" I borrow a book from some of the other children, and hear 
the lesson." 

" Then they can't study when they go home? " 
" No," she said, " they just have to study in school." 
"How long have you been teaching this school? " 
"Two years," she said. 

"Well, why don't you speak about it? Isn't this a govern- 
ment school? " 

"Yes, but I have spoken, and I have gone myself to Monrovia, 
and done all I could about it; but it does no good." 

And that was about the way I would find it everywhere, 
unless there was a mission school. 

As I was going to Liberia, in 1882, when we got to Sierra 
Leone, a Liberian young man, a very nice lad, I suppose about 
seventeen years of age, Mr. Eddie Lisles, from Bassa, got on the 
steamer. I saw he was a very nice, interesting looking lad, and 
one day as he was sitting smoking, I went up to him and had a 
talk with him. I asked him his name, and where he lived, and 
he told me. He said he had been away at school. 

"Away at school?" I said; "where?" 

" At Sierra Leone." 

"Sierra Leone? Why, they have a college at Monrovia, 
haven't they?" 

"Yes," he said. 

" Well," I said, "I'm surprised. I thought that the people 
would be sending their children from other places to Monrovia to 

the college." 



Amanda Smith. 



455 



He smiled, as though he thought I was green. And I was, 
too. He said: " I have a sister that is going when I go home." 
" Have they good schools in Sierra Leone? " I asked. 
" Very good." 

" And don't the people in Sierra Leone send their children to 
the college at Monrovia?" 
" No," he said. 

It was all a mystery to me. I could not understand it. I felt 
inclined to think he was not straight. But still I said nothing 
more. Of course I understood it after eight years' experience and 
observation. 

The mission schools have done the most good, I think. The 
Presbyterian Mission, at Clay-Ashland, at one time had a flour- 
ishing school. They had a fine, large, brick house, and outbuild- 
ings. When I first went to Africa, these buildings were all in 
good condition, but were unoccupied. The school was held in the 
hall, on the opposite side of the river. Mr. Albert King was the 
teacher, and as his home was on the ether side of the river, I pre- 
sume that is why the school was changed over there. 

However, the former house and buildings were all standing 
when I first went there. I have often passed it as I have gone up 
the river. What a pretty situation it was, and how nice every- 
thing seemed to be around it. But, like the Methodist Seminary 
at Monrovia, and the Ann Wilkins school at Millsburg, and the 
school up at White Plains, and the seminary at Cape Palmas, was 
once flourishing, but had gone down. And that is one of the good 
things that Bishop Taylor has done for the Liberians — restoring 
and manning their schools, and establishing schools among the 
natives, and supplying them with teachers, and so helping the 
government to fulfill their promise to them, which hitherto they 
had not been able to do. 

I was told that that was one of the causes of the Gredebowar; 
that the government had promised to establish schools among the 
natives, and send them teachers, and they had waited, and they 
had not done it. 

I was glad when the Bishop had got these schools at Monrovia 
and Cape Palmas started again. There w r as a great deal of un- 
pleasant feeling among the people at one time, because the Bishop 
began his work among the natives. They said that the Episcopal 
Mission had taught the Gredebos, and by educating them, they 



456 



Autobiography of 



had turned to be the enemies of the Liberians. The}' had never 
had any trouble, till after the Cavalla school. I forget the name of 
the white missionary that was in the Episcopal school at Cavalla. 

The Gredebo people are very bright, clever people, and the 
missionary had a little company of the boys, students, organized, 
and was teaching them and training them in military tactics: and 
it was said that this military teaching and training was the cause 
of all their trouble with the natives afterwards. 

Cavalla was the great school centre of the Episcopal work. 
Many of the Liberians, the older men, were educated at Cavalla; 
and it was a flourishing school. But, strange to say, whether the 
statement in regard to the natives giving them trouble because 
they were trained in military tactics at this school, is true or not, 
the tact is that all the war troubles that have threatened, and are 
threatening them, seem to be engendered at Cavalla; so much so, 
that just before I left Cape Palmas, that great mission station and 
school was broken up, and what pupils remained all came to Cape 
Palmas, and are there yet, I suppose. And the most of the trouble 
that Bishop Taylor's missionaries had, after they got to Cavalla, 
on their way up to their stations, came from the Episcopal Mis- 
sion. It was a perfect mystery. We did not understand it. But 
that was a fact. 

It was one of these mission stations that cost Bishop Taylor 
some three or four hundred dollars when they were trying to get 
up the river, after the Bishop had been up the river and made 
all his agreements with the kings and chiefs. 

I was with him, sat in every council, and heard all the arrange- 
ments; Brother Pratt, his agent, was with him, also; and there 
was not a dissenting voice among the natives. 

He didn't go to any town where the Episcopal missionaries 
had been; went to places altogether where there had been no mis- 
sionaries at all, and was received kindly in all these places, and 
they begged him to come and send them a missionary to teach 
their people. They agreed to all the Bishop's propositions with- 
out a word; and the Bishop agreed to theirs. They agreed to give 
so many acres of land for a mission, cut and burn so much bush 
for a farm, and then plant it, and cut the timber and build a 
kitchen for the missionary. This was their part of the agreement. 

Bishop Taylor's part was to send the missionary free of charge 
to them and give him all his outfit for six months. 



Amanda Smith. 



45? 



This was agreed to, without a word of dissent from anyone. 
The old women used to come and get down at Bishop Taylor's feet, 
and say: 

"Oh! Daddy, you be fine. You be fine too much." 

Mr. Pratt had told them a year before the Bishop came, that 
he was coming; and so they watched with eager hope; and when 
they saw the Bishop and Mr. Pratt, the old women would get 
down and take hold of the Bishop's feet, and then they would turn 
to Pratt, and say; 

*• Oh! Daddy, you mouth no lie this time. You mouth no lie. 
You got true mouth." 

One town we went to, we had not been there two hours before 
they brought us two goats, as a present. Oh, how glad they were. 
My heart ached when I saw their kindness, and I wept. Poor 
things! 

We came down the river. There was not a word. When 
Bishop Taylor's missionaries arrived at Cape Palmas, Mr. Pratt 
was a week in getting their things taken down to the mouth of the 
Cavalla river from Cape Palmas; then the natives from their sta- 
tions were to come down in their canoes, and take the things up 
to the stations. 

After he got the things all down, then he took the mission- 
aries themselves. When they got down to Cavalla, as they were 
going up the river, nine in number, three men with their families, 
they were stopped by the natives, at one of the Episcopal Mission 
stations, and not allowed to proceed up the river. They had told 
the natives that it meant war; that these white missionaries were 
only coming to take the country away from them. That was the 
pretext. 

In their contention and spirit they threw over a large box of 
tools in the river, that I think they never got; and if it had not 
been that the women were with them, they would have had a 
more serious time than they had. They were terribly hostile. 
They drove the natives back that had come down. 

Strange to say, these people that live on the river, many of 
them, don't want the natives in the interior to be enlightened. So 
Bishop Taylor's parties were turned back, and did not get back 
for a week. Oh! it was terrible. Poor things, how much they 
suffered. Finally they all came back to Cape Palmas, and it was 
weeks before they got to their stations. 



458 



Autobiography of 



Mr. Pratt had to send them overland, and had to pay four 
dollars a load for carriers; and during that time, many of them 
had the fever, and some of them died. 

The day that they came back across the bar, the bar was 
rough, and it rained, and most of them got soaking wet, which 
they should not have done, and that was the cause of so much of 
their fever and sickness so early. Two families that stopped for a 
week with Mr. Gibson, a member of the Episcopal Church, Mr. 
Pratt had to pay ninety-nine dollars for; one man had a wife and 
two children, and the other a wife and three children, all small 
children. 

At the place where Miss McNeil and Miss Whitfield, and Miss 
Bowers stayed for a week, they were more reasonable; they only 
charged forty dollars. And where Miss Wallace and Miss Meeker 
stayed for a week, they charged, I think it was thirty-five dollars. 

Oh! I never went through such a siege in all my life, Bishop 
Taylor was not there; but I was there through it all, and haven't 
borrowed a word. This was pioneer work. It is not so, now, I 
think, for Miss McNeil has nice headquarters at Cape Palmas, and 
there are several of the missionaries there, so that those who go 
now have a home till they can go up the river. It was very differ- 
ent at that time; and there's more to follow. 

So one can see why the Liberians should feel that establishing 
schools among the natives by Bishop Taylor, was going to bring 
them the same trouble. But now since he has got the schools 
opened, and teachers for the Liberians, as well as natives, they 
will think differently, and, I trust, feel differently. 

During the eight years I spent in Liberia, there were four em- 
igrations to the republic. Three went to Brewerville, and the 
fourth to Cape Calmas, I went to the receptacle where the} 7 were 
quartered when they first landed, and saw them all, and talked 
with them; and then visited them at their stations after they were 
settled. 

Some had gone to Cape Mount, and after they had been there 
a year, I visited several of the families there. I visited others at 
Brewerville, and at Mount Tubman, Cape Palmas, and at Phila- 
delphia, about three miles from Mount Tubman. I never saw 
greater suffering and need in my life than there was among these 
poor new-comers. The only comfortable thing (and that was un- 
comfortable) was the warm climate; they didn't need much fire, 



Amanda Smith. 



459 



or warm clothing: but for every other necessary in life that you 
could mention, they were seriously in need. 

At Philadelphia was a very pretty settlement, and it was 
thickly and well settled at one time; good land all round about, 
some very good houses, and things were going on pretty well. Mr. 
Allen Yancy, and his brother, who was killed in the Cape Palmas 
war, were the leading men who founded that settlement: and at 
one time it flourished: but was broken up at the time of the 
Gredebo war. and has never since been what it was before. 

When people in Africa are routed by war, they do not settle 
down quickly to their old homesteads. Poor things! "War is not 
elevating in any country: its effect, morally and socially, and relig 
iously. is not helpful. I think, with the exception of about four 
out of forty odd, there could not have been found a more helpless 
and ignorant set of men, women and children, than these emi- 
grants that came while I was there. There were several young 
men and boys, and girls, ranging in age, I suppose, from ten to 
eighteen years. 

I was down with fever when they arrived, so didn't go to see 
them for three days. It was quite a little distance from where I 
was, to the receptacle where they were quartered until they would 
get their land given them. I had heard a great deal from one and 
another, for the people called to see them, of course, and talked 
with them, so as to cheer them, and make them feel at home as 
much as possible: and when I went, I took a lot of papers, and 
tracts, and cards, for the children; and, to my surprise, as I 
went from room to room, and in the hall, as I met young people, 
and asked them to have a tract or paper, they would say, "I can't 
read:" so also, the fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters. 

There were two old men among them that were preachers. I 
went into one room, and the old man was sitting on a stool, with 
the Bible on an old trunk reading aloud, evidently for me to hear: 
so I went up and stood by him and listened. 

"Well, Pa," I said, in a familiar way. "you seem to be en- 
joying yourself reading the good book." 

He looked up, kind of dignified, as though I had broken the 
charm that was upon him: then went on reading again. 

"Sit down,'* a woman said. 

"I have called to see you," I said, "you have had many calls, 
I suppose, but I have not been here before/' 



460 



Autobiography of 



The old man read on. But of all the murdering of the king's 
English you ever heard, that old man was guilty of it. " Dat's my 
husband. He's a preacher," said the old lady, with a smile of 
comfort. "I can't read myself, but I likes to hear him when he 
reads." 

Then I said to the old man, "Pa, how long have you been 
preaching?" 

"I has been preaching de Gospel near 'bout forty years," said 
he, looking up. 

"Yes," I said, "so long? Well, T just came in to see you a 
little while. I would like to sing a little song for you, and pray; 
then I must go." 

So I began to sing, and a number of others came in; and I 
prayed, and went on to the next point. 

After I had spent about two hours this way, I went home, cry- 
ing all the way; knowing the need, as I did, both of the Liberians 
and the natives, I knew that this lot of people could not help any 
of them, but would certainly need help themselves; for I saw they 
knew but little about how to manage at home; and now what 
would they do in this strange country among strangers 

Of course, they would meet kindness; that goes so far; but 
that would not feed them, or clothe them; and those that were 
able to work, and willing, could not get the work to do, perhaps, 
the kind that they would do in this country; for men and women 
in this country can turn their hand to most an} T thing, and there is 
almost everything to turn their hand to; but there, there is no 
driving, &nd trucking, and farming, like there is here; and mak- 
ing roads and building bridges, and harvesting, and hod carrying, 
nothing like there is in this country, that they had been used to; 
and the most of the work that is done there, is done by the natives, 
and native wages are paid, in trade — cloth, tobacco, fish, or rice. 
And there is not a black man at Cape Palmas, I mean a Liberian 
man, (without it is Bishop Ferguson, he might), who could have 
hired six of these new emigrants, and paid them fifty cents a day 
in good money, not Liberian currency, but good, American money, 
and fed them three meals a day for six months. 

This may seem strange; but I don't fear the slightest contra- 
diction from any real upright, honest, man or woman. 

Now here were these poor men with their families. The Col- 
onization Society gives them what they call "rations," for six 



Amanda Smith. 



461 



months. By that time they are supposed to have got started, and 
have their houses built, or shanties, for this is about all thai 
would be built, and no matter for that, if they were only good 
shanties; but a good, native house is far more desirable. 

Six months goes round very fast in Liberia, and in the hud- 
dled together manner in which they go on the vessel and the 
huddled together manner in which they are quartered in the recep- 
tacle where they are waiting to have their land assigned to them, 
many of them go down with fever. Besides, not being very valiant 
for bathing and making themselves clean, as the natives are, and. 
all considered, at the end of six months they are worse off than ever. 
They have traded off their meat, or flour, or cloth, that they have 
brought, some for medicine, some for a fowl, or something to help 
them while they are sick; and some of the people with whom they 
dwell have learned the art of living on these new-comers, and 
greenhorns. But the government is not to blame for that, any 
more than this United States is to blame for a man's being what is 
called a <; sharper." 

Then there are large boys and girls who cannot read or spell; 
neither can their parents: so these boys and girls go to school, 
and the children laugh at them, being almost young men and 
women, and saying, a, b, c: then they are ashamed to go. and their 
parents do not insist on it. They simply say: 

"Well, I got on without any l'arnin , and if I have got- on 
without any Tarnin', you children can get on the same."' 

In the course of a year or two. these fourteen and fifteen-year- 
old boys are pretty well on to men: and in a little while they are 
into politics. They cannot read or write. 

Then among the young girls: some of them are very nice look- 
ing, and they will be married, for they are bound to marry in any 
event. Xow. if the Colonization Society would send a good teacher 
with them, with books, so they might have school on the voyage, 
and then teach them for six months or a year after they get there, 
they would be better prepared to go into the schools. For, poor as 
they are there, they are high-toned for people who have never been 
to school. 

In that way they would help; for a government that does not 
seek in every way to educate and instruct and enlighten its people, 
has a poor hope of long existence. It cannot go on perpetuating 
ignorance, and succeed. 



462 



Autobiography of 



I have heard of the Colonization Society's sometimes sending 
books with the emigrants; but, as a general thing, they are of the 
higher grade, and the agents hold them at such a high figure that 
only a few are able to get them. 

When I saw this need I would have gladly gone every day my- 
self, or have hired some one, to teach these children during the 
six months they were at the receptacle. But then there was not 
a spelling book or a primer to be had anywhere. There are no 
book stores, or stationery shops, where anything of that kind can 
be obtained. And for the sick, no dispensaries, no doctors, no 
hospitals, and not even a county poorhouse, as there is in this 
country. 

I have gone to see many of them when they were sick, and 
suffering from great sores caused by a little insect called the chigoe 
flea, and they have said if they had some salve that they used at 
home, and knew about, it would help them. But it was not to 
be had there. Then there were herbs they knew at home, that 
were good for fevers; but they did not know the herbs in Africa, 
and if they got them they must pay for them. 

Now, at home, in their own land, if they were ever so poor, 
they could help themselves in these little things; but in Africa 
they were really helpless. I wept for them, because I knew it, 
and could not help them. 

Last March, when I met an emigration in New York of some 
forty odd, who had sacrificed their little farms, and what little 
they did have together, and were going to Africa to get rich 
forthwith, I tried to tell them what to take with them. I told 
them (for they had a nice company of boys and girls with them): 
" See to it that you send your children to school, such as there are 
there. If you haven't got school books, be sure you take a good 
supply. Make your children go to school. If they won't go, flog 
them. If you do not take books from here, you will not be able to 
get them in Liberia." 

I told them all this and tried to help them all I could. The 
white people were very kind to them. 

We did all we could in the church to take care of them 
the two weeks before they got off. But they mistook my mean- 
ing, poor things, and when they got to Liberia, they told them 
I had run down the country, and said there was nobody in 
Liberia fit for them to associate with, and made a terrible time; 



Amanda Smith. 



463 



when what I had said to them was just the opposite: it was for 
them to get into a position to be what they expected to be as 
soon as they got there. 

But spending eight years in Africa among the people, and 
being known as I was known, and knowing them as I did know 
them, some of them were prepared to judge about what I did say. 

Only a little while ago, I heard that some of these very ones, 
all that could get back, had come back. 

If there was a hospital where they could be cared for, if for 
only a short time, it would not be so bad. But there is no such 
thing anywhere in the republic of Liberia, or was not while I was 
there, or ever had been. There was one talked of at Monrovia 
for five years: and they went so far as getting a lot. and laying the 
foundation: some of the timbers had been gathered, and had lain 
on the ground during the rainy season, which damaged them 
greatly: so that if it was ever built, all the work that was done 
five years ago, would have to be gone over again. How have they 
got on without these essentials all these years? Echo answers, 
''How?" 

I do not know if the Colonization Society thinks so or not: 
but most of the white people think, and some colored people, 
too, I am afraid, especially those who go as emigrants, that all the 
Americo-Liberians are on perfect equality with each other in all 
their social relations: and that, because they are a colored repub- 
lic, and an independent colored government, that they are all as 
one. But they never made a greater mistake; for in that republic 
there is grade and caste among them almost equal to that that is 
found among the upper-ten colored folks in America. So that the 
ignorant emigrant does not strike the highest and best grade of 
society when he first gets there. 

That class stands off, and waits to see what he is: and the in- 
telligent and better class of natives, as well. So they do not find 
companionship readily, or any sooner than the Italian, Jew, Ger- 
man, or Irish find companionship or society with the native-born 
American, and it is all nonsense for white people, or black people, 
to think any such thing. 

I never knew what real, black aristocracy was until I was in 
Lagos and Sierra Leone. In Lagos I have seen as fine a turnout as 
I have seen on Fifth Avenue, New York; coachman and footman 
dressed in English costume: black ladies and gentlemen riding 



464 



Autobiography of 



on horseback, and driving in buggies. The^r houses are furnished 
in tiptop English style. 

There were very many black merchants in Lagos and Sierra 
Leone; their sons and daughters, many of them, are educated in 
England, Germany and France. 

I have heard it said that in Sierra Leone some of the minis- 
ters are better Greek and Hebrew scholars than some of their 
bishops that were over them. 

There is one thing that the Methodist Church in America is 
ahead on, and that is, there is more of a spirit of real consecration 
for missionary work among the Christian women in America than 
I found in England. In Lagos, in different places where the Wes- 
leyans have large, fine mission houses, beautiful grounds, fine 
churches, boys' high school, girls' high school, they have the min- 
isters, but not their wives. 

They say they cannot live there; so while the ministers are in 
Africa — the part where I was — their wives are in England. But 
the Episcopals have high schools for boys and for girls, and a 
white lady principal and teachers for the girls' school, as well as 
men lor the boys' school. Conservatism and denominational dis- 
tinctions are very prominent. But they were all kind to me at 
Lagos, God bless them. 

Before I close this chapter I will give a very brief account of a 
black heroine, who deserves this notice for the work she has done, 
and is doing in Africa. 

Miss Susan Collins, the only colored student who has ever 
entered the Chicago Training School, and one of the noblest ladies 
that has left that institution for the foreign field, went to Africa 
in 1887, where she is at present laboring in Bishop Taylor's work, 
in Angola. 

She has charge of a little sub-station, supported by Pungo 
Andongo station, and has started an infant training school. 

No more faithful and self-denying missionary can be found 
anywhere than dear Susan Collins. I want to give place to this 
very interesting item for my own people, and also that others may 
see that there are colored women who can cope with any of the 
opposite race for real stick-to-itiveness and self-sacrifice and en- 
durance. She has never left her post since she went to Africa, and 
has stood the climate well. God has wonderfully preserved her in 
health and strength, and has made a great woman of her. 



Amanda Smith. 



465 



I met her first with the party that went down the Congo. I 
went with them as far as Old Calabar; and of all the party, of 
sixteen or more, I perceived in Susie Collins, timber that meant 
something. She was a woman who had been well raised and well 
trained; she had good, broad, common sense, and knew how to do 
a little of about everything; she was patient, and of a happy, genial 
disposition; of high moral character and sturdy piety. 

These are the qualifications that will generally stand the heavy 
pull in Africa. May God bless her, and continue to make her a 
blessing, 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 



LETTERS AND TESTIMONIALS — BISHOP TAYLOR —CHURCH AT MON- 
ROVIA — UPPER CALDWELL — SIERRA LEONE — GREENVILLE 
— CAPE PALMAS — BAND OF HOPE TEMPERANCE SOCIETY AT 
MONROVIA — LETTERS — MRS. PAYNE — MRS. DENMAN — MRS. 
INSKIP — REV. EDGAR M. LEVY — ANNIE WITTENMYER — DR. 
DORCHESTER — MARGARET BOTTOME — MISS WILLARD — LADY 
HENRY SOMERSET. 

Before I dismiss the subject of Africa, where I spent eight 
years of labor in the service of the Master, I wish to present a few 
miscellaneous papers — testimonials, letters, etc. — as specimens of 
the many that I have received from those who have known me, 
and my work, there and elsewhere. 

It is not from motives of vanity that I do this, but because I am 
sure that my readers will be interested in the testimony of some 
whose names, for the most part, are familiar to the entire Christian 
world; and of others who, though not so well known, were on the 
ground and personally acquainted with my work in Africa. 

I have many letters from Bishop William Taylor, of whom I 
have had something to say in the preceding chapters, but I with- 
hold all but the following, which may serve as a sort of general 
introduction, although it was written simply as a letter of com- 
mendation to Ex-President Payne, of Liberia: 

James S. Payne, Ex-President of Liberia. 

My Dear Brother: — This will introduce to your acquaint- 
ance our beloved sister, Mrs. Amanda Smith. As you may know, 
Sister Amanda is one of the most remarkable evangelists uf these 
eventful days in which we live. She is a member of our church, 
and well accredited, and everywhere owned of God in America, 
England and India, as a marvelous, soul-saving worker for the 
Lord Jesus. 

(466) 



Amanda Smith. 



467 



I heard you pleading for Liberia at our recent general Confer- 
ence. Your prayer will be answered in a great revival of God's 
work in Liberia, through the agency of Sister Amanda, with the 
working concurrence of your churches. 

I am sure you will do all you can to open her way. God bles3 
you all. Amen. 

Your brother in Jesus, 

William Taylor. 

Monrovia, July 10, 1889. 

Mrs. Amanda Smith, Evangelist. 

Dear Sister : — Now, upon the eve of your departure from 
us, after a sojourn of eight years, we feel it highly becoming us 
(and it affords us great pleasure to do so), to accord to you this 
tribute of respect and appreciation, as a testimonial of your untir- 
ing labors among us as a Christian evangelist; of the purity of 
your doctrines, the earnestness of their enforcement, of the clear- 
ness of their illustration, and of the wonderful and happy results 
which have followed. These all you leave behind you as enduring 
monuments of your zeal for the Master, and of your unabated love 
for humankind; and we do accept it, that your mission to Africa 
has been from God. 

Your life among us during these years of your sojourn, has 
been an even one, and one of untarnished moral and Christian 
rectitude and earnestness, nor needs any further defense, other 
than what it has borne along with itself, for it speaks for itself. 

And this is the testimony of all honest hearts throughout Li- 
beria. The children of Belial here, may rise up to asperse your 
fame, and to sully the lustre of your name, which they so much 
covet, but this were a vain attempt. And we accept it as a com- 
plete refutation of the theory emphasized by some, in their ignor- 
ance of the real character of the Negro at home, that white mission- 
aries are preferred by them. The responsibility of such a theory 
rests solely on those who originate and sustain it. 

Your extensive travels throughout the length and breadth 
of our land, your free and liberal intercourse and labors among all 
classes, civilized and heathen, Christian and Pagan, and the uni- 
versal hospitalities extended to you, show but too plainly, when 
compared with the welcome and entertainment given our white 
brother, that the theory above mentioned is not so tenable as they 
have vainly and ignorantly supposed. With the Negro at home 



468 



Autobiography of 



in his native wilds, when untrammelled and unsophisticated by 
unfavorable contact with the dominant race, 

"A man's a man for a' that." 

The higher plane of Christian experience, as preached by 
you, in its distinctiveness and defmiteness, is a doctrine purely 
Scriptural; a doctrine recognized and enjoyed under all ages of 
the church. It first blazed forth from the altar upon which 
" Abel by faith offered a more acceptable sacrifice than Cain." In 
equal lustre it shone in Enoch, who, "By faith was translated 
that he should not see death." And then, in righteous Noah, wfro, 
44 By faith being warned of things to come, not seen as yet, moved 
with fear, prepared the ark to the saving of his house." And all 
along the line, through the patriarchal, Mosaic, and prophetic 
ages, it blazed from the altar in an unbroken series. And then, 
under the fuller illumings of the Holy Ghost, since the advent of 
the blessed Savior, it was the theme of the Apostolic and primi- 
tive Christians. The middle ages, though an age of terror and of 
gross darkness, still preserved it in good tact, and transmitted it 
to the present age, baptized in fire and blood. 

And we rejoice that it is our privilege to say that, though not 
so much in its defmiteness and distinctiveness as preached by 
Christian evangelists in other lands, and by you in this land, in 
these latter years; yet, it was the doctrine preached, and lived, by 
many of the first founders of the church in this country, long 
anterior to this day. And while the zeal of the church in Liberia 
in its more universal proclamation and enforcement had abated, 
yet it was always hailed by many, as the central idea of Christian- 
ity and of Methodism. And your happy arrival to these shores 
served only to stir up the dying embers of a fire that had long 
since been kindled by the earlier Christians. We hail your arrival 
among us, therefore, as opportune and gracious, because, God 
appointed. 

Return, Sister Evangelist, to your home, and friends, and 
loved ones, from whom you have long been separated. You need 
rest, for your toil has been long and unremitting. Rest in the 
assurance that you have done some good — how much none can 
tell; eternity alone will reveal. Rest in the assurance that many 
bear grateful and prayerful remembrance of you, and shall ever. 
Rest in the assurance that your motives will sufficiently apologize 



Amanda Smith. 



469 



for, and excuse, any blunders you may have committed, in your 
zeal and push for the Master. r 

And now may the God of all grace grant you many years added 
to your life, and still greater peace. And when your sun goes 
down in the west, may it be without a cloud. Amen. 

[Signed by (the Pastor, Assistant Pastor and the Stewards and 
Leaders of the M. E. Church in Monrovia.] 

Upper Caldwell, Liberia, July 16, 1889. 

Dear Sister Amanda Smith: — Please allow us also, your little 
Sister Caldwell, second in the train in the point of birth, to bid you 
good-bye, as an assurance of our good will toward you, and also 
of our high estimation of your Christian character, and of your 
earnestness and untiring effort to preach a pure doctrine, and to 
lift up the standard of holiness. 

Our fathers preached this, they lived this, and died this. 
They inculcated the idea of a holy life, as the central idea of Meth- 
odism, and laid it down as the corner stone and basis of Bible doc 
trines. And we hail it as an undeniable fact, that while there has 
been some declension among us from this baseline of Gospel truth, 
yet there never was a time since the founding of the church in this 
country, when there were not witnesses, living, practical witnesses, 
to its truth. Not recognized possibly so much under the several 
titles as now preached by evangelists throughout Christendom in 
these latter days, as in its essence and power. 

From the first of your arrival among us, you began to give 
your trumpet this certain sound, and its echoes have gone all over 
the land. The churches have felt the renewed impulse, and un- 
der its inspiration have moved on apace. 

You have this testimonial also from us, that of the many who 
have come among us as missionary workers from the Mother 
Church of America, none have been more truly welcome, none 
more zealous, none more untiring than yourself, and returning to 
their home across the waters, have carried with them kindlier feel- 
ings, or more grateful, than you do now. And we wish to God that 
we could accord to others residing among us as missionaries, the 
tribute we now accord to you, a tribute of unselfishness, and of 
purity of life — uninfluenced by mercenary motives. And now, 
finally, " good-bye," my dear sister. May you have a pleasant and 
safe voyage back to your home and friends, and may many more 



470 



Autobiography of 



years be added to your already useful life, in the enjoyment of 
restored health, and of increased peace, is the prayer of 
Yours, in the Lord, 

H. B. Capehart, Pastor. 

J. D. A. Scott, Assistant. 

Thomas H. Clark, Lay Preacher. 

F. T. Clark, Steward. 

An Address Delivered to Mrs. Amanda Smith, by the Members of the 
A. M. E. Zion Church, Sierra Leone, on her talcing leave of them. 

Dear Madame: — We, the undersigned members, on behalf of 
the above church, and all the Christian public who are interested 
in our mission, beg most respectfully to forward you this address 
as a sure testimonial from a gratified society, that has had the pleas- 
ure of your visit, and among whom you have been laboring with 
unwearied zeal, for the short time you have been in Sierra Leone. 

We cannot fully express ourselves as we would. We hope you 
should not think that we are flattering you, whilst we are declar- 
ing our sentiments; because we are candid in doing so; and we 
trust we are cautiously avoiding the use of any expression that 
will bear any resemblance to it. When the Rev. J. R. Frederick 
announced to us, shortly before your arrival, that you had kindly 
given your consent to come and labor amongst us, he spoke very 
much of your zeal, labors, and travels, in very many places. In 
our opinion, so far as our eyes have seen, and ears heard, we can 
say of you, that "the half was never told." In every respect, the 
information is correct. 

We need not tell you that all have been greatly satisfied with 
your discourses. The great number of people that used to attend 
your services, will prove to you, that by all means, so far as out- 
ward successes are concerned, you have not failed in your work. 
We believe that God has answered your prayers in that way — you 
have been casting } T our net on the side of the ship, that Christ or- 
dered; and you have gathered fishes. 

The number of those who were willing to give up their sins, 
and with whom you have been wrestling in prayer for awhile for 
the help of the Holy Spirit, will also convince you of the success 
of your labor. Long after you shall have left these shores, the 
effects of your visit will still be felt. 

We are thankful to Almighty God that we are privileged to 
witness the fulfilment of the prophecy of Joel, that, " It shall come 



Amanda Smith. 



471 



to pass in the last days, that I will pour out my spirit upon all 
flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy," etc., etc. 

We thank you also for the interest you have taken on behalf of 
the poor heathen in the adjacent rivers, where you have been 
laboring with so many disadvantages. We are also thankful to 
God that you have testified that your labor has not been in vain — 
the Lord has had mercy, on those on whom he will have mercy. 

We are thankful, also, for your reproving the prevailing sins of 
the times, viz.: Superstition, adultery, drunkenness, slander, 
pride, disobedience to parents, hypocrisy in religion, sinful in- 
dulgences, etc., etc. We are very sorry that we are not composed 
of richer classes of people, who will cast in of their abundance to 
the treasury, as a donation for your services, but we trust that of 
our penury, the little amount realized from us and the generous 
public, will be received by you as Christ received the widow's two 
mites. 

We feel very sorry to say to you, good-bye; but such is life. 
We hope and trust that though we meet here to part again, 
yet in Heaven we shall meet to part no more. We pray that 
God may raise-up your successor, as he raised up Joshua before 
the death of Moses, to carry the souls to Canaan whom you have 
left by the way; and that a double portion of your spirit may rest 
upon her. 

God Almighty bless you with many and happy days; that as 
His Heavenly hand has enriched you with many singular and ex- 
traordinary graces, you may be the wonder of the world in these 
latter days for happiness and true felicity; and that the everlast- 
ing doors will give way for the entrance of your soul with Christ 
in Paradise, on the other side of the grave, is the prayer of 

Your Brethren and Sisters in Christ. 
[Signed by the Pastor and the entire membership of the 
church and Sabbath School, and accompanied by a 
testimonial amounting to over a hundred dollars.] 

Greenville, Sinoe Co., Africa. 
To the Christian Churches loherever established. 

Dear Brethren, Sisters and Prtends of Jesus* — Hallelujah ! 
to the lamb forever. Amen! 

This comes as a recognition of the wonderful work of God in 
our country through that most worthy and faithful handmaiden 
of His, the sainted evangelist, Sister Amanda Smith. 



472 



Autobiography of 



This sister came to this county in the year 1882, laboring in 
Montserrado and Grand Bassa Counties as an Evangelist. 

In the month of November, 1882, she came to Sinoe County, 
where she began with much zeal the evangelical works of her 
Lord; landing here in Greenville on Sabbath morning, four o'clock, 
November 17th, 1883, she gave an exhortation that evening in the 
Methodist Episcopal Church. Then began the working of the 
Lord in this county. 

Her first object was Gospel Temperance. After preaching a 
series of sermons she succeeded in organizing in Greenville a 
society, or Band of Hope, Gospel Temperance. She next organ- 
ized a similar society in the townships of Lexington, Louisiana, 
Bluntsville, and Farmersville. About three or four hundred have 
now become temperance signers, including men, women, and 
children. Many are saved from a drunkard's grave, because there 
are in this number many who are real; nay, they would taste 
death before violating their pledge. Glory to God for this salva- 
tion! Amen! 

Not satisfied with this alone, she began to cry, secondly, that 
without holiness of heart no man can see God in peace. She earn- 
estly insisted on holiness, assuring those who were justified by 
faith the possibility of living holy lives on earth. The people be- 
gan to seek a closer union with God. Sister Smith's prayers for 
holiness were real, earnest, and faithful. God heard, God saw, 
God moved! 

In the month of May, 1884, the holy fire began to fall. It fell 
first by degrees in Lexington, then in copious showers. Next in 
showers it began to fall in Louisiana, in Bluntsville, finally in 
Greenville, and elsewhere. In the month of September a Holiness 
Camp Meeting was held, at which meeting a National Holiness 
Camp Meeting was organized, and at this place upwards of one hun- 
dred professed sanctification to the Lord, and are living for Christ 
alone, and are prepared to die for Christ, if need be. 

Wherefore, in consideration of the wonderful works of God 
through our evangelist and worthy sister, and in consideration of 
her departure from us; therefore, 

Resolved, 1st. That we recognize the wonderful works of God 
through this sainted evangelist, and her much faithfulness to God, 
and her Godly walks and Christian examples before us; and that 
the Lord truly sent her to Africa. 



Amanda Smith. 



473 



Resolved, 2nd, That we, on behalf of ourselves, and the Chris- 
tian Church of which we are members, tender her our sincere 
thanks for her labor of love, and a high appreciation of her Chris- 
tian society, assuring her of the deep sense of our feeling of sad- 
ness on account of her departure, and our sincerity and continu- 
ance in prayers to God for her protection and support wherever 
His Spirit may lead her. 

Resolved, 3rd, That we recommend Sister Amanda Smith to 
the most favorable consideration of the pastors and members of 
the Christian Churches wherever she may go as a workman of God 
in reality. 

Resolved, 4th. That we recommend her now unto God the 
Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, now, and forever. 
Amen. 

In witness whereof, we have hereunto set our names officially. 

William P. Kennedy, Jr. , Preacher in charge of the 
Greenville Circuit, and Presiding Elder of Sinoe 
District. 

S. D. Mayson, Deacon Baptist Church, Lexington, 
John L. Fuller, Steward and Leader M. E. Church, 
Greenville. 

Z. B. Roberts, Local Preacher M. E. Church, Greenville. 

J. W. Bonner, Local Preacher. 

W. E. Harris, of Congregational Church, Greenville. 

H. B. Brown, Leader and Steioard M. E. Church. 

Allen Peal, Local Preacher. 

J. N. Lein, Sup' t Presbyterian S. S., Sinoe County. 

Geo. B. Dunbar. 

Z. T. Greene, Superintendent Sabbath School, Greenville. 
R. P. Mayson, Local Preacher, Lexington. 
H. C. Birch. 

Affectionate appreciation of the labor of Mrs. Amanda Smith, the elect 
lady Evangelist, during her stay in Maryland County, Cape 
Palmas, Liberia. 

Cape Palmas, Liberia, Dec. 17th, 1886. 
God sends blessings, often, to communities and nations through 
feeble instrumentalities. When angels, the higher order of created 
beings are not employed, the message comes to us through earthen 
vessels — frail mortality. 



474 



Autobiography of 



Divine Providence has seen fit, of late, to visit these Liberian 
counties, through a female instrumentality, in the person of Mrs. 
Amanda Smith, the elect lady Evangelist of the Methodist denom- 
ination of America. 

Her efforts among us at Cape Palmas, have, under the Divine 
Head, had no precedent in this county. The doctrine of Christian 
holiness has been most beautifully explained by her oion Christian 
walks and teachings; and the result has been an addition of scores 
of members to the various Christian denominations of this 
county. 

After an^ impartial examination of her teachings, and duly 
comparing them with the sacred Scriptures, we find them in per- 
fect harmony with Scripture doctrines.. 

May her life be prolonged to preach Christ and Him crucified, 
to the multitudes, who yet sit in the regions of darkness, as well 
as to explain the most wholesome doctrine of sanctification for the 
spiritual benefit of those who are already justified by faith. And 
may the Holy Ghost accompany her, and illuminate her mind 
more and more, unto the perfect day. 

Please receive this tribute of Christian respect, as a parting 
farewell from many who may never see you again in this life; and 
may the blessing of God rest upon you always. Amen. 

[Signed by the Officers and Members of the M. E." Church 
at Cape Palmas. ] 

Monrovia, Liberia, W. Africa, July 17, 1889. 
The Band of Hope Temperance Society of Monrovia 
have heard with regret of the intended departure, in a few days, 
of Mrs. Amanda Smith from among us. They feel that it is but 
due to her to place on record the fact, that Gospel Temperance has 
had in her a faithful and untiring advocate and worker ever since 
her arrival in the Republic. In this, and other sections of the 
country, she interested many influential young men and women in 
the temperance cause, and everywhere utilized them as the 
founders and supporters of the Band of Hope. She leaves behind 
her a strong, temperance sentiment, which, under God, can, and 
we trust, will do much to paralyze and extirpate the curse of strong 
drink. 

The Band of Hope feels it also its duty to note the fact that 
Mrs. Amanda Smith has done her best to raise the standard of 



Amanda Smith. 



475 



religious life and aspirations among the people of this country. 
In wishing her farewell and God speed, it expresses the hope that 
she may long be enabled to continue to bring in sheaves for the 
Master, and that her work may everywhere have abundant and 
fruitful success with the seal of the Holy Spirit. 

The Band of Hope is having prepared an album, containing 
photographic views and portraits of places and persons in Liberia 
and West Africa, which it begs that Mrs. Smith will accept as a 
reminder of her visit to West Africa, and as a slight token of their 
appreciation of her efforts and labors while in this region of the 
Dark Continent. 

H. W. Travis, Pres. Band of Hope, No. 3, Monrovia. 

Isaac J. Moort, Bee. Sec'y Band of Hope Temperance 
Society, No. 3, of Monrovia. 

I gladly place on record the letters that follow, not only be- 
cause of the kind appreciation of myself and my work ex- 
pressed in them, but in the hope that they may prove a blessing 
to those who read them. The first is from Mrs. Martha Payne, sister- 
in-law of ex-President Payne, of Liberia; the second is from Mrs. 
Mary R. Denman, of Newark, N. J., of whom I have also spoken 
in a former chapter; and the third, from Mrs. Inskip, whose hus- 
band was so well known throughout the Christian world as a leader 
in the Holiness Movement. She also has been greatly honored of 
God in the same blessed evangelism. 

Martha Payne's Experience. 
A letter to Mrs. Amanda Smith. 

Monrovia, June 19, 1883. 

My Dear Sister: — In compliance with your request I now 
conclude to give my religious experience. I was converted at the 
age of fifteen. The greater part of the time I was in darkness, 
because I did not have a daily witness of the Spirit. I believed 
that a Christian was to have a daily witness as a child of God. I 
had a fear of God hid in my heart, but no lasting joy, and this 
caused me much uneasiness. Sometimes I would doubt my con- 
version. Resolve after resolve was made to be true and stead- 
fast, but I found I was utterly helpless*. 

My temper gave me much trouble, and caused me often 
to neglect my prayer. Then I would be filled with doubts and 



476 



Autobiography of 



fears, and in a state of oscillation continually. As the cares of the 
family increased I sought for sanctification so as to be steadfast. 
I did not receive it, and became very dark. I lived only with thg 
fear of God. Then a restlessness took hold of me, impatient to be 
freed from sin. As I prayed for grace and faith the hidden evils 
of my heart were made known. Then I resolved to look to Christ, 
and grew in grace, taking for my comfort the promise, "They 
that seek diligently shall find/' I often read my Bible, and tried 
to cast my burden on the Lord, because I had learned to trust him 
through difficulties. The Spirit drew me and I followed on to 
know the Lord. 

I had read "Upham's Interior Life." I was much encouraged 
and endeavored to be submissive to all things. Then I had severe 
trial, and my heart was much burdened. I arose at midnight and 
submitted all to God. From that time I was kept steady and more 
willing to acknowledge myself a follower of Christ than ever. About 
two years after, Mrs. Amanda Smith came to Monrovia and preached 
holiness. I was anxious to get light on the subject. I paid attention to 
all that was said. After her second discourse she called for persons 
to come forward to seek sanctification. I wanted to be sanctified; 
promised myself to seek quietly, to grow into the blessed exper- 
ience, and say nothing about it to anyone, for I had learned that 
great would be the gloom if the blessing was not found. Some 
months after, Mrs. Smith commenced her work again. Sickness 
weakened her so that she was unable to work as she desired. In 
December she commenced Bible reading every day. I gave all 
attention to her instruction, and did not allow her to know that 
I sought the blessing, notwithstanding my home was her home. 
In her instructions she gave us to know that we must be definite 
in our request to God. I had an aversion to the word "sanctifica- 
tion," and prayed all around it. Finally the middle wall of par- 
tition fell, and I was willing to utter the words, "Lord, sanctify 
me." I yielded all, and a stillness of soul followed for three days. 
I was determined to stand until light was given. The stillness 
was broken while I calmly sought, before retiring for the night, 
with these words: "The blood of Jesus Christ, His son, cleanseth 
from ail sin." It was reasoned with such force that I assented 
audibly, "Yes, it is so, because the word of God says so. The 
heavens and the earth shall pass away before one jot or title of 
His Word shall fail. " My heart replied: " Yes, because the Word 



Amanda Smith. 



477 



says so, and when Jesus Christ said it is finished, a full saltation was 
complete." Then, with all the earnestness of my soul, I said: 
"Lord, you know, now let the Spirit witness with the blood and 
apply it to my heart." Then I felt a sinking sensation pass 
through me. I fell to my knees to pray, but my prayers were 
turned to praise and thanks to Jesus. My soul was filled with humil- 
ity, and my eyes with tears. My faith was established in Christ, 
my soul was quickened into new life, and I viewed Jesus Christ 
by faith as I never did before, with the promise, "I will abide 
with you." And no sooner did I confess openly that my soul was 
cleansed from sin, than it seemed to me my whole being was 
changed anew. Glory to Jesus! I am saved! And ever since the 
twelfth of December, I have the witness within, and the way is 
more clear as I move on. 

Your sister in Jesus Christ, 

Martha Payne. 

Mary R. Denman's Testimony. 

The first time I ever saw this sister, Mrs. Amanda Smith, was 
in 1870, at a time that I, having a hungry soul, had learned that 
a party, called "Higher Life Christians," were holding meetings in 
the Y. M. C. A. rooms in our city. 

I went to them to learn if they had something that would suit 
my case. At the first meeting I heard a brother giving his exper- 
ience of the rest of faith, God had given him. At once I thought 
this was just what I wanted. So I followed them to one of their 
evening meetings, that was held in the Franklin Street Methodist 
Church. 

Early in the meeting a colored woman arose, and began to 
speak and sing. I was disgusted, that a woman should be allowed 
to speak, and a colored woman at that, and felt she should be 
requested to sit down. But soon I became interested in what she 
was saying, and enjoyed her sweet songs, and at once felt that I 
wanted the same faith that that woman had. 

From that time I sought something of the same kind, and 
found Dr. Palmer's meeting, Fifteenth Street, New York. There 
I heard other men and women give their experience, which taught 
me a great deal. 

At last a colored woman, sitting the second seat from me, 
dressed in plain Quaker dress, arose (after a man from Ohio had 



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spoken and thanked God for the light that had come into his soul 
during that meeting) and gave thanks to God for His answer to 
prayer in giving that soul to her in that meeting. 

T have often thought since it was my soul that was given to 
her at that time, for after she sat down I felt I wanted her prayers, 
and putting by all my prejudice (I had lived in the South many 
v ars), in asking a colored person to pray for me, 1 reached my 
hand to her and asked her prayers. She turned to me, as I 
thought, very coldly, and said: "What do you want? " 

I had made a more full consecration of myself during that 
meeting, and now knew just what I wanted, and said, in answer: 
" I want bodily strength to dc God's will." She said, "I will." 
And for the glory of God, I wish to give my testimony that I have 
had more bodily strength ever since. I did not know then that 
this woman was the same one I had heard speak in Franklin Street 
Church, for at that time she had not given up her irons, and wash 
tubs, and was dressed in her wash-woman's garb. 

When I saw her the third time, it was at Sea Cliff Camp 
Meeting, when I was glad to tell her of the answer to her prayers 
for me. 

After passing through the ten da} T s' meeting, without receiv- 
ing the baptism of the Holy Spirit (having been brought up an Epis- 
copalian, and not understanding the especial need of a clean heart, 
and this especial baptism), the dear Lord was very good to me, 
and came to me in the night with deep questions to my soul, that 
I could not answer in my own strength, and knowing that Amanda 
Smith was in the next tent, and had just come in from a late 
meeting, I called her, and she came in and knelt down beside me, 
asking what my trouble was. She prayed with me, and made me 
fully to understand that our Heavenly Father would not ask any- 
thing of me that He would not give me strength to do, and that 
all He wanted of me was to say " I will " to Him. 

When I fully understood this, it took all my will power to say 
" I will " to God, for I knew it was no light thing to do, for it was 
to be- ''Twill" to Rim for the rest of my life. But when the "I 
will " teas said, the power came, and she sang that beautiful hymn, 
" 'Tis done, the great transaction's done, 
I am the Lord's, and He is mine." 

I can never tell that great peace that came to my soul at that 
time, and down in the depths of my soul has remained. The 



Amanda Smith. 



479 



upper surface may be ruffled, as the ocean often is: but down be- 
low the surface the undying peace remains. 

Dear reader, I am glad to give my testimony to the power God 
has given our dear sister. Amanda, to bring souls to Him, and to 
help them on to keep steady before Him, until He can finish His 
work of redemption in them. He is no respecter of persons, and is 
as willing to-day to give the baptism of the Holy Spirit to every 
soul who will come to Him in lowliness of heart, and ask Him for 
this blessing, and believe that He will give it. Wait for it. It 
will surely come, and you will be happy. When done with the 
up-and-down old Christian life, sinning and repenting, you will 
look to Jesus, moment by moment, for His guidance, which He 
will surely give, and then you can say to the Tempter when he 
comes (for he will never leave us while in the body), in Jesus' own 
words, "Get thee behind me, Satan." Jesus will open your spir- 
itual vision when He comes in to dwell, and you will recognize the 
temptations of Satan from the blessed leadings of the Holy Spirit. 

Respectfully submitted, praying God's blessing upon these 
few words. 

Mary R. Dexmax, Newark, X. J. 

2002 Braxdywixe St., j 
Philadelphia, Pa., Dec. 22. 1887. ) 

My Dear. Dear Sister Smith : — Your precious letter came 
to hand, and it was too good to keep; I had it published in the 
44 Standard." so your many friends would also enjoy it. It did my 
soul good to hear from you: many thanks for the same. 

The beautiful tribute paid to my now sainted husband by you, 
was appreciated by me. My dear one often said he thanked God 
that he was the instrument, in God's hands, of bringing you into 
this beautiful light of full salvation, or entire sanctification. That 
day, at "Old Green Street," was never forgotten by my dear hus- 
band, and he spoke of it all around the world. 

God has made you " A flame of fire " in this and other lands, 
and my dear husband rejoiced in the glorious work God enabled 
you to do. and he used to say. " Praise the Lord. Amanda Smith's 
success is mine." 

Oh! with what interest he would watch every move you made. 
He, with myself ; felt anxious for you to go to Africa. My dear 
husband often would say: "That will be Sister Smith's crowning 
glory.* 1 



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I have no doubt his spirit has been very near you as you have 
been pushing the battle. Bless the Lord for the glorious victories 
won. 

I often feel that my dear one is looking over the " battlements 
of glory," waiting to welcome me into that mansion of glory pre- 
pared for us. Oh! Sister Smith, what a meeting, when the re- 
deemed ones shall return and come to Zion, with songs and ever- 
lasting joy. I think I can almost hear the anthem of praise unto 
Him that hath loved us, and given Himself for us. To Him be 
glory and praise forever and forever. Glory! Glory! 

My darling sister, God has wonderfully given me physical 
strength and spiritual enduement for the work he has called me 
to do. I promised God, around the casket of my dear one, I would 
give to Him all the strength He gave me in work. 

You know my husband was a wonderful leader; strong and 
fearless, yet very loving. I have heard Bishop Simpson and 
Bishop Harris say he was the grandest leader to marshal the 
forces and lead them into battle they ever knew. I have often 
wondered why God took him and left me; but I know He is too 
wise to err, and too good to be unkind; so I must leave all with 
Him. What I do not know now, I will know in the sweet by 
and by. 

God has helped me as never before. After coming from 
Ocean Grove, where I was kept busy with work, I attended the 
Holiness Convention in Wilmington four days. It was a wonder- 
ful meeting. Souls converted and sanctified. Brothers Thompson, 
Pepper, Gray, Smith, Todd, Mrs. Kenney, Nettie Van Name, 
Clara Boyd and mother, Mrs. Blackston, Bangs and myself went 
from Philadelphia. Orr, Smith, Kenney, Boyd and Van Name 
stayed the following week. I had to leave. I had an engagement 
with Rev. S. E. Searles, in Brooklyn, two weeks. God did reveal 
Himself in the salvation of the people. Glory to God! We often 
spoke of you. 

I had to leave in two weeks to fill an engagement at Wilming- 
ton, Del. I was there nine days. Over fifty converted; forty- 
three united with the church. Twenty were entirely sanctified, 
and twenty men and women (unsaved sinners) arose at the close 
and asked us to pray for them. The meeting we could not close 
till half past ten. Last Saturday will never be forgotten by the 
people present. 



Amanda Smith. 



481 



I have to leave on Monday morning to get ready to go South, 
where I am engaged, if my health holds out. I shall start for 
Florida in a few days. If the Lord brings you home we shall hail 
your coming with delight. 

Brother and Sister Thompson, where I am stopping, say you 
must remember this is one of your homes. They unite with me 
in much love to you. I will also say I shall welcome you to my 
cottage at Ocean Grove when I am at home. God bless you abund- 
antly with the riches of His grace. 

I am glad Bishop Taylor is doing such glorious work for 
Africa. How my soul goes out for that Dark Continent. I am 
glad God has used you. Praise the Lord for the work you have 
been able through God's grace to do. God is blessing Sister Ken- 
ney, Lizzie Smith and others in the work. All your friends send 
lots of love to you. God bless you forever. Love to all the saints. 

Your loving sister, 

Mrs. J. S. Inskip. 

I have sent you the "Missionary Review," and paid for it 
myself one year. 

The following letters from Rev. Edgar M. Levy, Annie Wit- 
tenmyer, Dr. Daniel Dorchester, Margaret Bottome, Bob, Miss 
Frances E. Willard and Lady Isabel Somerset, respectively, are 
personal, but will, no doubt, be read with interest; 

Manchester, N. H., Feb. 2, 1890. 

My Very Dear Sister: — I learn through the papers that you 
are now in London. I am real glad that you are that much nearer 
to us — the many friends who wait to greet you. Let me thank 
you for the kind word you write of me, which I see in the " Stand- 
ard" this week. I sincerely reciprocate your kind wishes, and hope 
soon to see you and renew our sweet fellowship of bygone years. 

I have written you several times while you were in Africa, 
but I have received no answer. In the last two communications 
I informed you that you might draw on me for two hundred dol- 
lars. Not hearing from you, I concluded that you had decided 
not to do so until your arrival in England, and your readiness to 
embark for America. I have now in my care $214.21 awaiting 
your pleasure. If you will inform me as to your wishes, I will 
either send it all, or in part, to you at any time, or I will keep it 
till you reach home. 



482 



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When you write me, please direct to the care of McDonald, 
Gill & Co., 36 Bromfield street, Boston, Mass., U. S. A. 

When you return I shall take pleasure in helping to increase 
the amount, which would be but a reasonable return for all you 
have done for us under the burning sky of Africa. God, however, 
will reward you in a far richer manner — in the ' * Well done, goou 
and faithful servant." 

Remember Douglass. All I ask is that you give that camp 
meeting the precedence over all others-, as much for dear Brother 
Morse's sake as anything else. He has been the largest contribu- 
tor, and will cheerfully do more when you get home. 

Our winter has been very mild, but now has become very 
cold. It looks like we shall have the winter in the lap of spring. 
I hope God will guide you in choosing the safest time to return to 
America. 

Of course you have met dear Brother and Sister Pearsall . 
Smith in London, where they now reside — 44 Grosvenor Road, 
Westminster. We miss them exceedingly. 

I am, you see, in New Hampshire; not permanently, but for a 
few months, perhaps, preaching for a Baptist Church — the most 
spiritual I have ever known. We are just now having a precious 
work of grace; conversions every night, and as many as forty seek- 
ing the blessing of a clean heart. Glory to God! I expect Brother 
Morse to come and help me next week. 

Now, dear 'sister, I must close, commending you to God and 
the Word of His grace. I am, 

Yours, in eternal and holy fellowship, 

Edgar M. Levy. 

Sanatoga, Pa., Oct. 11, 1890. 

My Dear Mrs. Smith: — I welcome you back to America. I 
thank the Lord for all your grand work, and rejoice that He has 
used you for His own glory for so many years, and has brought 
you safely back to us again. 

I send this as directed in the Philadelphia Methodist, and 
hope it will reach you. I want you to visit me. I am thirty-three 
miles out from Philadelphia, on the main line of the Reading 
Railroad. I have bought a farm of sixty-five acres, on the Phila- 
delphia Pike, one mile or less, from the Sanatoga station. If you 
will let me know when you are coming, I will meet you with a 



Amanda Smith. 



483 



carriage. I have a big house and plenty to eat, and a warm wel- 
come awaits you, and a good warm room will be ready for you. 

My son, the little boy who was with me at Ocean Grove, is 
married; has a good, practical, Christian girl for a wife; and we 
all live together. There are only three in our family. They both 
join me in the invitation. 

As ever, your faithful friend, 

Annie V\ ittexmyer. 

Office of Superintendent, \ 
Department of the Interior, !■ 

Indian School Service, ) 

Standing Rock Agency, X. D., October 29, 1891. 

Mrs. Amanda Smith: — Your letter of August 8th, after many 
wanderings, has at last reached me here. 

Was very glad to hear from you. I have sometimes wondered 
why the Lord keeps a person so full of faith, and love, and Chris- 
tian zeal, so long out of Heaven; it must be, that you may be a 
blessing to this poor, sinful, needy world. 

I shall never forget your earnest prayers, so full of faith, and 
the profound respect the good people of Salem, Mass., had for you 
and your Christian character. Your labors have been a great 
blessing to multitudes, and your reward is on high, and will not fail. 

May God greatly multiply such laborers. The world needs 
them. With kind remembrances, yours, etc. 

Daniel Dorchester. 

New York. 

My Dear Sister Amanda: — You know I always loved you. I 
think it was Chaplain MeCabe that called you our ''Palm Tree," 
in the years gone down into the past, when we met you at our 
National Camp Meetings. And now, in these latter days, you have 
come into our organization of The King's Daughters and Sons. 

I am so glad to see the gleam of the silver cross on any Daugh- 
ter or Son, but when I saw it on you. my princely sister, I was 
peculiarly happy. Many jeweled hands I shall forget, but never 
your dark hand, raised so high when singing: 

" My Saviour's promise faileth never, 
He counts me in the whosoever." 

You are a real daughter of the King "all glorious within." 
How often I would have given a good deal to have heard the tones 
of vonr voice singing: 



484 



Autobiography of 



"The wonder-working Jesus! 
The very same Jesus! " 

Well, he has worked wonders through you. Many an owner of 
a white face would have been willing to have exchanged it for your 
white soul, but we are in a spiritual kingdom where there is 
neither bond nor free, white nor black. Christ is all and in all. 

I am glad to think that wherever you go, you will bear the 
cross of our Order, and I do hope that many will follow you into 
the banqueting house where His banner over us is love. Some 
day we shall enter the King's palace, and I trust be presented 
faultless before the presence of His Glory; and the joy of all joys 
to my mind will be that of giving our King " exceeding joy " in 
the presentation. 

Your loving President, "I. H. N.," 

Sister Margaret Bottome. 

This letter from Bob — my Bob — is short, but will show how 
he is getting on, and that he is like other boys. I am sorry the 
sweet-shop was wrecked, and that it rained so they could not go 
to see the procession, but I am glad on account of the new boots 
and trousers! 

Southport, October 28th, 1892. 
My Dear Mother: — I hope you are better than when you last 
wrote to me. 

There was a shipwreck at Blackpool a fortnight ago. The 
storm destroyed a sweet-shop, on the pier. 

Miss Hobbs has bought me a new pair of boots, and made me 
a new pair of trousers. 

I am trying to learn the books of the New Testament, but I 
cannot say them yet. 

There has been a procession here; it rained so we couldn't go 
to see it. 

The Exhibition closed on October 1st. Hundreds of people 
came to it. The fire-works were lovely. 
The weather is very rainy and cold. 

Mr. Walker sends his love. I met him in Chapel Street last 
♦ Thursday Miss Hobbs sends her love. 

With much love, I remain, 

Your loving son, 

Bob Smith. 



Amanda Smith. 



485 



World "s Woman's Christian Temperance Union, \ 
Headquarters and Office of President, >• 
Albany Buildings, 47 Victoria St., Westminster, J 

London, February 17, 1893, 
Mrs. Amanda Smith, 2940 South Park Avenue, Chicago. 

Dear Sister: — We learn that you are about to bring out a 
book containing your experiences of life which have been so varied 
and remarkable. We are glad of this, and confident that great 
good will come of it to all who read it. for your cheery Christianity 
bears the stamp that should become universal, and every fresh 
example helps to bring that day nearer. 

Believe us, your true friends in the love of God, 

Isabel Somerset. 
Frances E. Willard. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 



RETURN TO LIVERPOOL — FAITH HEALING — BISHOP TAYLOR LEAVES 
AGAIN FOR AFRICA — USE OF MEANS — THE STORY OF MY 
BONNET — TOKENS OF GOD'S HELP AFTER MY RETURN FROM 
AFRICA. 

I left Sierra Leone in November, 1890. I was so miserable 
that I only gave myself three weeks to live; I thought I might 
possibly drag along about that length of time. 

I did not go to any of my friends in Liverpool, or Southport, 
as they wanted I should do. I was so tired, and weak, and I 
thought of the care and anxiety I would be to them, and then the 
extra work for the servants — all this I thought of — though I never 
saw better principled servants in my life, than in England. 

I suppose there is not a lady in England who would think of 
consulting her servants as to whether she should entertain a col- 
ored person in her home; I do not believe there was ever such a 
thing heard of in England. But such a thing in America would not 
be considered out of place. I have met the like more than once. 

I was at a good lady's house in Philadelphia, not long since; 
she was very kind to me, and wanted to ask me to stay for tea, but 
did not dare to do so, on account of an old servant who would have 
been vexed if she had had to serve a colored woman, whom the 
lady herself had asked to sit at her table. It was night, and I 
only had to ride two and a half hours, from Philadelphia to New- 
ark, my home, and I got my own supper, thank the Lord. 

Well, I had no fears of this kind in England. But I felt that 
I wanted to be quiet, and simply let alone. I had it in my mind 
all clear as to what I would do with little Bob. 

While on the steamer I had my first attack of "la grippe." I 
had not neard of it in Africa; it had not got there then; so that 1 
did not know really what had happened to me. But the good 

(480) 



Amanda Smith. 



48? 



doctor on the steamer seemed to understand how to manage it, 
and with little things I knew to do for myself, I got relief in a few 
days. Then it seemed to turn again; and, oh! the pain I suffered. 
I told the Lord not to let me die and be buried at sea. 

I had seen poor Mrs. Beede, when on my way from Old Cala- 
bar, buried at sea. And I knew all that would have to be done, 
and I shrank from it. I said, " Oh! Lord, if Thou wilt only give 
me strength to get to Liverpool, I will not trouble Thee any more." 

For I w r as so tired of holding on, and trying to keep up; and 
for three weeks after I got to Liverpool I did not pray. -It seemed 
to me the Lord had done all I asked Him, and now all I had to do 
was the little I could do for myself, and just wait and see what 
next the Lord would do. 

I calmly looked over all my mind, and my work in Africa. I 
felt that while there was so much to be done, and I had only done 
a little, yet that I had God's approval that I had done all I could. 
I went to Africa at His bidding, and did not leave till I was sure 
I had His sanction. So I felt, if I were to die, my conscience was 
clear before my God. I had worked willingly, and suffered cheer- 
fully, in the w T ork, for His sake. And there was not a shadow 
between my soul and God, and I felt I had nothing to ask. 

We got into Liverpool on Friday night. The stewardess said 
I could have lodgings with her. So she took me to her house. All 
night I suffered. On Saturday morning I felt a little rested; but 
the pains troubled me very much; so, as the evening drew near, I 
sent out and got some medicine, and thought I would go to bed 
early. But just about eight o'clock, my dear friend, Mrs. Stavely 
(whom I had written to say I had got in, but did not expect to see 
before Monday), and her husband came in. Dear souls, how very 
kind they were. They were delighted to see me, and said they 
thought I looked well to what they expected. I told them how 
miserable I had been, and how I had suffered. At once Mrs. 
Stavely said: 

"Oh! why don't you trust the Lord to heal you?" 
" Why," I said, that is what I have been doing all along; and 
J believe if I had not done so I would have been dead long ago." 

She had often written me on the subject of faith healing, 
while in Africa, and had sent me numerous papers; then I knew 
dear Mrs. Baxter, and Mrs. Dr. Bordman, and many others of those 
choice spirits. But somehow I did not seem to be able to see the 



488 



Autobiography of 



teaching as they did. They could not understand how anyone so 
strong in faith as I seemed to be, did not see it; and they knew, 
and I knew, that the Lord was with me, and did lead me, and 
bless me. But, like them, I did not understand it myself. 

" However," I said to Mrs. Stavely. "if an effort on my part 
is necessary, I cannot make it, I am too weak. But like the man 
we read of in the Gospel, I am willing for anybody to do anything 
for me that he can." 

The man we read of in the Gospel was too weak to do anything 
himself, but was willing they should take the roof off the house 
and let him down before Jesus; and Jesus, seeing their faith, said 
to the sick of the palsy: " Arise." So I said, " there is just where 
I am. I am willing, from the crown of my head to the soles of 
my feet." 

" Oh, well," she said, "if you are willing, the Lord can do it." 

"But, then," I said, "I have just swallowed a dose of castor 
oil and laudanum five minutes before you came in." 

"Well," she laughingly said, "you can trust the Lord." 

I knew how very conservative good Mr. Stavely was; that he 
was not an enthusiast by any means, though one of the grandest 
men I ever knew; and he spoke up: 

" Yes, Sister Smith, why not trust the Lord to heal?" 

"My," I thought, " if he has got to believing so, it is won- 
derful." 

After a pleasant chat they went home. All day Sunday I suf- 
fered. There was a sick lady in the next room to me, and they 
called in a doctor for her. He was a good Christian man. So, as 
I was so very ill, my hostess said I had better have the doctor see 
me. I agreed, and he came in. He was very pleasant, and I told 
him I was just from Africa. He was much interested, and said 
that they had a large mission on the Congo. He was delighted to 
see little Bob, and said he would like me and Bob to come to Sab- 
bath School in their church. 

He left me some medicine, which did me good, and relieved 
the pain so that I was able to sleep a little on Sunday night. 
Then, as he had to call on the other lady on Monday and Tuesday 
he called each time to see me, also. 

I took the medicine on Sunday and Monday, but did not take 
it on Tuesday. 

" Now, I ought to trust the Lord — now as I am willing," I 



Amanda Smith. 



489 



said, " but the doctor is so kind, he may not like it if he knows I 
am not taking the medicine; still, if he asks me, I will tell him I 
am not taking it." Then I prayed, " Lord, do not let him ask me 
anything about it." 

So sure enough he called in on Wednesday, had a nice chat, 
and said, " Well, Mrs. Smith, I see you are better." 

"Yes, Doctor,'' I said, "I am feeling much better. How 
much shall I pay you?" 

"Oh! nothing at all. I am very glad to do what I can for 
you." • 

So I thanked him, and he left. 

On Friday I heard that Bishop Taylor was in town, and would 
leave on Saturday. So I went down to Mr. Stavely's office, the 
Temple, Dale Street, Liverpool, and found that the office of An- 
derson Fowler, Bishop Taylor's agent, was next to Mr. Stavely's. 

This was the first time I ever saw a telephone work. It was a 
new thing to me. But I soon heard from the Bishop. They said, 
"Yes, he was there; had just gone out five minutes before." 

So I left my address, and asked the Bishop to call on me at my 
lodgings. But, as the Bishop was poorly, with asthma, his son, 
Mr. Ross Taylor, and Mr Welch, the former editor of the "African 
News," called at my lodgings. 

I was delighted to see them. We did have a pleasant time 
together. We had a little song, and then we knelt and had prayers. 
My! how Brother Ross Taylor did pray; and Brother Welch. 
They were in quite a hurry, so did not stop long. 

Mr. Ross told me that his father was to leave for Africa on 
Saturday. So next morning I got a cab, and Bob and I went down 
to the pier to see the Bishop off. I got there before the Bishop 
arrived, and I saw him when he came on board; and I think I 
never pitied a man so in my life. It seemed as though he could 
scarcely walk, he was so weak and thin. I said to myself, " That 
is not the Bishop Taylor that I left in Africa. " Oh! how changed 
he was. After I had looked at him for a time (for he did not see 
me) I went to him and said: 

" How do you do, Bishop?" 

"Pretty well," he said. 

How glad he was to see Bob and me. He saw us last at Cape 
Palmas, in Africa. Then I said, "What a dreadful cold you 
have." 



490 



Autobiography of 



"Yes," he said, "an attack of asthma. I have not had an 
attack before for (I think he said) thirty years. The other night I 
did not know but I was going. My breath was so short. But I 
told the Lord if He would spare me I would like to live a little 
longer for Africa." 

And I saw the great tears in his eyes, and his lips quivered. 
Then he brushed the tears away, and said, with a twinkle in his eye: 

" You know, Amanda, I have known men to die for want of 
breath." 

"Yes," I said, "they generally die for such a want."' 

Oh! how I would like to have gone back with him. As I 
looked at him I said, " Oh! what a sacrifice, all for my people. At 
his time of life he ought to have his home comforts, with his wife 
to look after him, and his children around him. Now he is so 
weak and sick. And then he is going all alone on the steamer, 
and not a soul to do anything for him." 

I cannot tell how sad I felt. T said to Mr. Ross, "Can't you 
go as far as Madeira with the Bishop?" 

"No," he replied, "father says I must go home." 

Then the Bishop said to me, 'Well, good bye, Amanda. Take 
good care of Bob." 

I bade him good-bye the best I could, and left. I never ex- 
pected to see him again in this life. When I got into the cab, oh! 
how I cried! And for three days every time I thought of the dear 
old hero, I had a good cry; I couldn't help it. How good the Lord 
was to take him to Africa, and bring him back to* his home land 
so well and strong. How like a God is He who doeth all things 
well. Amen. 

Again I turn to my story. Going out at that time gave me 
fresh cold; I had not got my winter clothes yet; so a dreadful 
cough set in, and rheumatism in my left arm; and what I suffered, 
God only knows. But I had quit taking any means. I was willing 
to trust the Lord. 

" Lord," I said, "there are all the things I have been taking, 
and they have helped me up to a certain point, and then I had to 
trust you. So I will trust you and do without taking anything." 

Now this time the Lord did not seem to test me as before. I 
just wanted a little relief from pain, for I was going to die anyhow. 
So I went on. 

One night about two o'clock, I had not slept a wink up to that 



Amanda Smith. 491 

time, I was sitting up in bed crying with pain in my arm. Dear 
little Bob was in bed beside me, sleeping away. Everybody in the 
house was asleep; my cough was terrible: and I said, "Oh: Lord, 
help me. What shall I do?" and as though some oneone stood 
by me and spoke, I heard, " Put cotton batting on your arm.'' 

" Thou knowest, " I replied. ' 1 1 have not got any: but in the 
morning I will ask the lady if she has any." 

So I did. and she gave me some. I got down before the fire on 
my knees, and put on the cotton batting It did seem to relieve 
me, and the pain seemed to quiet down as I knelt down before the 
fire and it got warm, and I fell into a little doze of sleep. It was 
better next day. but, oh: so sore. I told my friends I believed it 
was the good Spirit that prompted me to put on the cotton bat- 
ting. But they thought I should not have done it. but simply 
ignored the plan, and just trusted the Lord. 

Well. I tried the best I could. They sent me books on the sub- 
ject; but I said. "I will not read anything but the Bible. I am 
going to take the Word of God, and ask help of the Spirit." 

All right. One night after this my cough troubled me so that 
I could not sleep. After a severe fit of coughing, I said, ''Oh! 
Lord, do help me. What must I do? " And in an instant a voice 
distinctly said to me. "Beet root tea will allay the irritation.'' 
And I said, "Now, Lord, if that is Thy voice speaking to me, 
please keep it in my mind till morning and I will do it." 

I remembered that twenty years before I Avas told this thing, 
and did it for a friend who was ill with cold, and it helped her; 
but I didn't remember that I had ever thought of it from that 
time until it came to me that night. 

This was benveen three and four o'clock in the morning. 
About day-break I got a little quiet: and at seven o'clock a servant 
came in and made the fire, and it came to me about the beet root. 
I said, "Well, I am better now. and I needn't mind about it." 

I got up at eight, and it came again. "Beet root tea." But 
still I did not heed. About nine o'clock the same whisper cam^ 
to me again: 

" You said if the Lord would keep it in your mind till morn- 
ing, you would make the beet root tea." 
" So I did." 

And I called Bob and sent him downstairs to ask the lady if 
she had any red beets. She sent me two small ones, but very nice 



492 



Autobiography of 



and red; I had a small sauce pan, and I put them in and boiled 
them and made a strong cupful and drank it, and it did allay the 
irritation so that I coughed but little after that to what I had done 
before; and I shall ever believe that God was teaching me not to 
ignore the use of all means in sickness. 

I believe that God is honored as much when He tells me to 
do a thing and I obey, as when He says not to do it, and I 
obey. "Thou shalt not covet." "Thou shalt iove the Lord thy 
God with all thy heart." To me obedience in both cases is abso- 
lutely necessary to honor God. I only receive blessings as T obey. 

Rev. D. F. Sanford, of Boston, was so kind to Bob and me, and 
he and his wife were at the Berachia heme, at Souuhport, and 
during the series of meetings he was holding he gave Bible read- 
ings on this subject; and it seemed so clear, and many seemed to 
get help and blessing, and I did too. 

But many thought I was not half out of the woods. So one 
day two ladies called to see me, after I had returned to Liverpool. 
I had never seen them before, but they said they had heard of me; 
and one of them, Mrs. A., told me of her wonderful experience of 
how she was healed of dropsy. 

I was deeply interested, as she went on narrating all the inci- 
dents in relation to it, and how she used oil and anointed herself, 
as she said she felt the Lord led her to do. 

" Oh," I said, " I was out last evening to the shop, and it came 
to me to get some sweet oil." 

"That is it," she said at once. 

" But," I said, " I did not get it." 

"Well," she said, "olive oil is the best; but I did .not have 
that in my case. Haven't you got oil of any kind in the house? " 

" Only a little castor oil that was left in the glass." 

*j It only needs a few drops, and that will do." 

So I knelt down, and they anointed me with this oil, and 
prayed very earnestly. They both said they got such a baptism 
when they were healed; so I could not help expecting some assur- 
ance to this work of healing my body, as I did to my sanctification 
and justification. 

They told me this was right for me to expect, for God had 
made the provision for the body's healing, with that of the soul; 
and I did honestly try to see it just as they did. But I could not. 
I went on for ten days waiting for this especial assurance that I 



Amanda Smith. 



493 



was really healed. Oh! how I longed for it, but I never got any 
such assurance. Still I held on by faith. 

Christmas came. My dear friend, Mrs. Stavely, had invited 
me to Seaforth. It was with great difficulty that I got there. 
When I did, oh! what a night of suffering. She prayed with 
me. Oh, how true and kind she was. Her faith held on to God 
for me. 

Next day another dear friend, Mrs. D., came; and they two 
together prayed and encouraged me to still hold on; that all the 
pain I suffered was simply a temptation; the Lord would heal me. 
I made my will do the best it would; but I felt the pain just the 
same. 

About noon I got up, and they helped me to get my clothes 
on. They were so anxious I should be down to Christmas dinner 
with them. So I was, and as best I could, endured the pain 
through dinner. When it was over I could not hold out any longer; 
I went up to my room, and walked the floor in agony. I tried to 
ignore the pain; but in spite of my will and faith, it would not be 
ignored a bit! 

About day-break I got a little quiet and slept a little; and 
while the pain was not so bad as it had been, it was three weeks 
before I was able to get my arm above my head. And when I 
would use any means, or talk of it, my friends would feel so sorry 
for me, and say that it was not honoring the Lord to do so. 

But I had sincerely prayed for light. And I believe God has 
given it to me; if for no one else, He does to Amanda Smith, and 
I feel quite sure I am not mistaken in God's leading me. I think 
He has saved me from bondage on these points. Amen. Amen. 

As one of the little incidents that reached its culmination 
after my return from Africa to England, I must here relate the 
story of my bonnet — not a very important story in itself, but, like 
most stories, it has its moral, also, if we choose to see it. 

How I did hate to give up my nice Quaker bonnet! I had no 
special feeling about putting it on, so far as feathers and flowers 
were concerned. I settled that when I was converted. All of 
those things were surrendered, though the love of them was deep 
in my heart, so that when I sought the blessing of cleansing I had 
no difficulty on the dress question. 

I always admired the Friends' dress, so this was at once my 
choice, and at that time many of the Christian sisters among all 



494 



Autobiography of 



the colored churches in Philadelphia, New York, and Baltimore, 
dressed like the Friends, and were generally called Band Sisters, 
and, as a rule, were noted for their deep piety and Christian char- 
acter. I loved them for this, as well as admired their very plain 
dress, for the height of my ambition was to be a consistent, down- 
right, outright Christian. 

It was not a question of your belonging to the Society of Friends 
because you chose to dress like them. I remember that not only 
colored Methodists dressed like them, but white Methodists as 
well, so that I never dreamed of anyone questioning me on my 
plain dress. When I got to England I found it was different, 
dressing like a Friend and not being a Friend, and none of my 
people being Friends. They did not understand it, so as I went 
about I was often questioned, though in a very nice way. 

I was with the Friends a great deal, and they were most hos- 
pitable and kind. They would sometimes say; 

"Does thee belong to the Society of Friends? " 

"No." 

" Did thy father and mother? " 
"No." 

" And none of thy people are Friends? " 
"No." 

"How strange that thee should wear the Friends' garb." 

Well, then I would go into a long explanation, tell of Ameri- 
cans being independent in what they choose; how no one felt 
bound to wear any set garb; that Methodists or Presbyterians, no 
matter who, if they liked to dress like the Friends, or anybody 
else, if they had the money, just got the article, whatever it was, 
and no one had any thought about it. 

They would listen patiently, and then kindly say: "Well, I 
think if I were thee, I would not do it." 

I didn't understand it at first, but later on I found out that no 
one in England would wear a Friends' bonnnet who was not a 
Friend, if they did they would be suspected ot pretending to be 
what they were not. When I first heard this I was frightened. I 
said, "Oh, deary me, is this why J have been so questioned? " 

As I was going from place to place, everybody treated me 
most kindly, but, "oh," I said, "has this been the thought in 
their mind, that I have been pretending to be what I am not? " 

I prayed and cried about it a great deal, for the Lord only 



Amanda Smith. 



495 



knows how T hate deception or sham in anything, but especially 
in Christianity or religion; but then, I could do nothing. I thought, 
if I take off my bonnet, and I did not want to do so, for I really 
loved it, but still if I should take it off, and see persons from 
America who knew me, that they would say, "Yes, that is just 
what we thought, Amanda Smith would take off her plain bonnet 
when she got to England ! ' ' 

Then the people on this side thought I was representing my- 
self, by wearing the Friends' dress, to be what I was not. 

So there I was, between two fires, and the thought of sailing un- 
der false colors, this was more than I could bear, but I stood it 
until I got back to Liverpool, then I had to get a new bonnet. I 
dreaded going through the explanation again. I saw that the set- 
tled ladies were wearing little bonnets. I thought, " What shall 
I do, I can never wear a little bonnet." 

I thought if I could find a Friends' milliner, I would get me 
a plain bonnet if it were not a real Friends' bonnet. I knew I 
could not get what I wanted at any ordinary milliner, and I did 
not know where to go in Liverpool to find a Friends' milliner. 

I wrote to my friend, Mrs. Margaret Davis, of Fox Rock, Dub- 
lin, and told her my dilemma. She wrote and told me she thought 
I was quite right about getting the bonnet I wanted, and ihat she 
would find out where I could find a Friends' milliner in Liverpool. 
But before I got her word, two ladies called on me and would go with 
me to get some warmer clothing. It was very cold and I had only 
my African clothes, four double, but then I was not warm, so we 
went shopping, as we would say in England. 

The ladies got me a nice fur cloak, warm under flannels, nice 
jersey jacket, stockings, gloves, etc., then they said: 

44 Is there anything else, Amanda? " 

44 That is all," I replied. 

Just then one of the ladies said, 44 Oh, you must have a nice 
bonnet! " 

Then I told them I was waiting for a letter so as to know where 
to go. They said, " You will not wear that big bonnet again." 

I tried to explain to them as best I could, but they insisted 
that I must get a bonnet, 44 properly," as they said. So we 
went into the millinery department and got me a 44 nice bonnet," 
the largest one they had, and that was not very large, and the 
plainest. 



496 



Autobiography of 



So I went on all right until I came back to America, then here 
it was again, "Oh, what have you done with your plain bonnet? " 
I felt so sick of explaining that I felt like starting a new style and 
wearing no bonnet at all! 

Scores of people have asked me about my bonnet that have 
never thought of asking me how my soul prospered, and this, after 
all, is more important in God's sight than though I wore a hun- 
dred plain bonnets. 

I thought it well to give this final explanation. Amen. 

I had a great many expenses during my stay at Sierra Leone. 
I had my two native children, Bob and Frances, with me, and 
the little girl was sick all the time. I did everything I could for 
her to get her well enough to bring with me. 

She had been sick for three months before I left Monrovia; 
but I had got her well enough to get as far as Sierra Leone, where 
I hoped, through better medical attendance, she would get quite 
well enough for me to bring to England. 

After spending three or four months in Sierra Leone, and do- 
ing all I could for her, paying doctors' bills and all, the doctor 
told me at last that the child could not stand the climate if I 
brought her, and that she would be a great deal of trouble and 
care, so I had to decide to leave her, as I had little Bob to look 
after. 

Then I had to provide everything for Frances, so as to leave 
her comfortable, as I was going to bring little Bob with me. This 
made my expenses more; but I had quite enough to bring me to 
Liverpool, if I could live to get there, though sometimes I was a 
little doubtful whether I would. But the Lord understood my 
case. 

It was not long after I got there before my loving Father, God, 
began to fulfill that blessed old promise, that He gave me when I 
left America: "My God will supply all your need according to 
His riches in glory, by Christ Jesus." Phil. 4:19. Different 
friends began to send in, as I have already shown; some, three 
pounds; then two pounds; others, one pound. 

One week when I needed just four shillings to pay for my 
lodgings at Liverpool, before leaving for my friend, Mrs. Stave- 
ley's, at Seaforth, where I was going that afternoon, the postman 
brought a letter in the morning, and when I opened it it was from 
America, and contained one dollar. I did not know the sender — no 



Amanda Smith. 



497 



name — only " God bless you; I welcome you back from Africa." 
That was all. So I praised the Lord, paid for my lodgings and 
left. 

"This, this is the God I adore, 
My faithful, unchangeable friend 
His love is as great as His power, 
Which neither knows measure nor end." 



CHAPTER XXXVT. 



WORK IN ENGLAND — IN LIVERPOOL, LONDON, MANCHESTER, AND 
VARIOUS OTHER PLACES — I GO TO SCOTLAND AND IRELAND 
— SECURE PASSAGE TO NEW YORK — INCIDENTS OP THE VOY- 
AGE — HOME AGAIN — CONCLUDING WORDS. 

My first work in England, after my return from Africa, was 
at Gordon Hall, Mrs. Stephen Menzies', Liverpool, where I spoke 
at a large conference and sang, and the Lord blessed me greatly. 
My next work was at Fleshfield, at Mr. Radcliff's. I began on 
Watch Night and spent a week. I was not well, but somehow the 
Lord helped me to speak to a large congregation in the little 
chapel. From there I went to Southport and assisted in some 
meetings held by Rev. D. F. Sanford, of Boston, U. S. A. 

All this time I was miserable, but I would earnestly pray and 
ask the Lord to strengthen me, and He would always do it, but I 
see now the wise thing would have been for me to have rested en- 
tirely, for that was my real need, and the strength I used in pray- 
ing I should have spent in resting, I believe this would have been 
pleasing to God. What a dull scholar I have been in His school 
and yet He has been so patient with me. 

Then I held several meetings in Liverpool; then on to Doncas- 
ter, was entertained at the home of Miss Morris, Chequer House. 
I shall never forget her kindness to Bob and me. Here I had some 
rest, but held a number of meetings, some in the hall of the Y. M. 
C. A., and Mother's Meetings, and several drawing room meetings 
at Mrs. Richard Norris'; and various other meetings. From Don- 
caster we went to London on our way to Folkston. My dear friend, 
Mrs. D. Bordman, of London, had kindly invited me to stop on 
my way. She had also kindly arranged a little quiet reception. 
A number of friends were invited, among those that were present 
was Mrs. Hannah Whitehall Smith, Mrs. Mark Guy Pierce, and 

(498) 



Amanda Smith. 



499 



others. This was a surprise to me, but it was a blessed meeting 
and meant more to me than I have language to express. 

From London I went on to Folkston, where I had been sent 
for, to hold a special service at the Railway Mission. Here Bob 
and I had nice lodgings provided; and it was here where little Bob 
was converted, one morning just after breakfast as we kneeled to- 
gether to have our morning worship. Praise the Lord! 

I shall never forget the blessing the Lord gave us at Mr. Tokes' 
church. He is a grand man of God, a staunch churchman, but 
what is called Low Church; broad, but orthodox, so that he invited 
a woman to take services in his church, and God wonderfully 
blessed his work and people. One dear woman told me that she 
had sought the blessing of heart purity for several years, but she 
said somehow the Lord helped me to make the way so simple that 
she saw it, believed, and entered into rest. Her face beamed with 
delight. To Him alone be glory forever. 

Then on Sunday night the Congregationalist minister invited 
the Railway meeting over to his fine church, which was just 
across the street, the crowd being so great we couldn't seat them 
in the hail. He threw open his pulpit; though it was a new 
thing under the sun for a woman to stand in the pulpit of a Con- 
gregational Church; and I must confess I did feel a little shaky 
myself to be up there alone; but I cried mightily to the Lord for 
help, and, if ever He did help me, He did that Sunday night, and 
blessed His own Word to the hearts of the people, and several en- 
tered in and found soul rest. Praise the Lord! 

Then I spoke at several other meetings, including one of the 
Salvation Army, who were doing a grand work at Folkston. They 
had given me an urgent invitation to speak for them. I had but 
one night that I could possibly give, so I went in the name of the 
Lord and did what I could. 

From Folkston I went to London, spent a few days with Mrs. 
Col. Finch White, at Louishem Hill. Here I held several meet- 
ings, including a drawing room meeting at Mrs. Finch White's. 
Drawing room meetings in England are not a rare thing as they 
are in America, I think, as I have never held any here, but did so 
often in England, and often with great profit, I trust. 

Thursday, April 3, I leave London for Southport, and stop at 
Mrs. Stavely's Berachia Home. Monday, April 10, I take Bob to 
Miss Hobb's school, where he is now, and has been ever since. 



500 



Autobiography of 



How good the Lord was to open this door of mercy to this dear 
boy; thus the promise is true, "If ye shall ask anything in My 
name, I will do it." On the 16th I go to a Conference at Manches- 
ter, Mr. Crossley's, Star Hall. This was a blessed meeting, con- 
ducted by Rev. D. F. Sanford, to which I was invited and enter- 
tained at Mr. Crossley's home with Mr. and Mrs. Sanford, and 
though I did but little, the Lord blessed me. And when I was 
leaving, Mr. C. handed me a check for, I think, ten pounds — am 
not quite sure as to the amount — but at all the places they paid 
me well. 

Besides the meetings at Star Hall, I took a meeting at a large 
mission hall carried on by the Society of Friends. Here the Lord 
gave His blessing on the Word. 

April the 23rd, I leave, Manchester for Southport, attend to 
some little matters for Bob, then, on Friday, April 25, I leave 
Southport for London, stop at Mrs. Isabella Walker's, where I had 
had a very warm invitation to spend some time at her home. This 
lady was anxious I should go to some of the meetings held at the 
headquarters of the Salvation Army, Congress Hall. 

This I was not able to do, but spent two very pleasant weeks 
with Mrs. Walker, at Clapham. How the grace of God was mag- 
nified in this lady's home life, a lady of rank and culture and posi- 
tion, but so fully consecrated to God. She was Mrs. Booth's 
warmest friend, and was with her through her last severe illness. 
It was here I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. and Mrs. Col. Clib- 
born, of the Salvation Army, whose work is in Paris. May the 
Lord bless them. 

May the 1st, I was invited by Mr. Reader Harris and Rev. D. 
F. Sanford to be at their anniversary meeting at Speak Hall, Clap- 
ham. This is a great meeting, held every year, and has been a 
great blessing to scores of souls from all parts of England. 

May 7th, through the invitation of Mr. Clifford, Honorable 
Treasurer of the Great Church Army, I speak at the anniversary 
meeting at Piccadilly. The crowd was very great, but the Lord 
gave His blessing; then I addressed several meetings at Miss 
Mason's House of Rest, Cambridge Gardens, London, West. 

Saturday, May 10, at Woodgreen, Mr. Morgan, the editor of 
c 'The Christian," invited me to take some services at his hall on 
Sabbath and several week nights. Here again the Lord was 
pleased to give tokens of His favor, and a number professed to 
have found peace in believing. 



Amanda Smith. 



501 



On the 24th, I leave London for Scotland, stop at Carlisle, with 
Mrs. Walker's sister, Mrs. Johnston. What a lovely home this is. 
I was so tired and would so like to have rested, but I had not been 
in long before a number of dear friends gathered and I had to have 
a meeting. I felt I really could not, at first, but I asked the Lord 
to help me, and He did, praise His name. On Monday, the 26th, 
I leave Carlisle for Alloa, Scotland. Miss Patten, of Morris Hill 
House, through my dear friend, Mrs. Lisle, had kindly invited me 
to Alloa to have a little rest, God bless her, I shall never forget her 
kindness in every way to me. Before I ever saw her she wrote 
and sent me five pounds, which came just at a time when I needed 
it. God's word of promise did not fail. (Phil., 4:19). 

After a little rest, I held several meetings at different places in 
Scotland, at Alloa and then at Crief. Here Miss Patten took me 
to the great Hydropathic institution, at her own expense, where I 
could well have spent a month, but because of an engagement for 
some meetings at Edinburgh, I could only spend one week. How 
kind the people were, and the baths and treatment that I received 
during the short stay did me the greatest good. I shall ever praise 
God for Miss Patten, and for the kindness shown me at this beau- 
tiful institution. I was asked to give a little missionary talk one 
morning in the chapel, which seemed to be very much appre- 
ciated. 

From Crief I went to Edinburgh, after holding meetings 
a week, arranged by Mr. Govern, who had also arranged a series 
of meetings at Peble's, on the River Clide, and at a number of 
other places. Then, leaving there, I went to Blaine O'Chile, 
Dunblain. I went on Friday to stay until Monday. This lady, 
Mrs. Chapman, was a very dear friend of Mrs. Lisle, who had 
spent a number of years in Africa on the Congo and at Old Calibar, 
where I first met her, and worked with her a little while there It 
was through her that I got to know Mrs. Chapman; since then she 
has gone to her reward. May God bless her memory. 

Mrs. Chapman is a lady of large means, and I think I never 
saw one whose means and all was so fully consecrated to God. 
How many young men she has educated for foreign work, both 
white and colored, and has also been the help of many others. 
Her record is in heaven. 

She invited me to come and see her before I left Scotland. I 
was getting ready to go home and I felt I needed the money, still 



502 



Autobiography of 



I wanted to go and see this lady, so I told the Lord if He would 

have me go, not to let me be anxious about the means, but to 
open the way for me. T had a good quiet Saturday, and it was 
very stormy and rainy on Sunday, so that Mrs. S. said we would 
not go to church in the morning. In the afternoon she asked me 
if I would take a service and speak to the servants in the large 
kitchen. This I did, and spoke with great freedom from the 15th 
of John. We had a very interesting meeting. At the close Mrs. 
S. said, I think the meeting has been very profitable. She was very 
pleased, and as we went to the next room she said, <k Iwantto 
hand you a little donation," so she handed me six pounds. I 
said, how the Lord has answered prayer! 

On Monday morning as I was leaving she said, "I think I had 
better give you another pound." I thanked her and praised the 
Lord. 

From here I went on to Grenock, spent a night and spoke to a 
large congregation in a hall. On the 15th I left for Belfast, spent 
a few days at Neury; held several meetings there. On the 18th 
I leave Neury for Fox Rock, Dublin; stopped with my friend, 
Mrs. Margaret Davis, whom God raised up to help me so while in 
Africa; God bless her forever. 

During my stay at this very pleasant Irish home I held several 
meetings at the Friends' Meeting House, Monkstown, then at 
different places in Dublin at the TVesleyan Chapel, etc., etc. 

Then, July 30th I leave Dublin for Leeds, Eng. Thank God 
He has given me the strength and the intimation that I may start 
for home. Praise His name. How I have ever gone through with 
the work I have, I cannot tell, for I was not able to think of getting 
my things together till last Monday, the 28th. In the morning 
when I woke the thought came how I should get my things to- 
gether, and when I had thought it all over I had found that the 
dreadful weakness did not overcome me as it had done before. I 
said, praise the Lord, I can go home. 

I got up and wrote to Mr. Stavely, at Liverpool, to get me a 
ticket; this he could not do, as everything was engaged. So I had 
to wait till the 26th of August, when I left by the steamer Gallier 
for New York, and arrived Friday, September 5, 1890. 

On the way over from England there were a number of minis- 
ters aboard and four or five Catholic priests. All had services on 
the Sabbath. The Catholics in the lower cabin, and the Protest- 
ants in the upper saloon. 



Amanda Smith. 



503 



In the afternoon there was a meeting among the steerage pas- 
sengers. I went and listened to a young man talking in very 
broken English; but, oh! so earnest. He was a foreigner, and was 
speaking from the fourteenth chapter of John. 

There was a number of Plymouth brethren among them, and 
they seemed to have the right of way, so that the poor young man 
was alone; for, as a general thing, they have but little sympathy or 
fellowship for anyone that does not say as they say and teach the 
truth as they do. All that I have ever met seemed to think and 
endeavor to impress it upon you that they only, know the Scrip- 
tures, and all teaching outside of themselves — true Plymouth 
brethren — is not safe, and ought not to be relied on. So they all 
started off from this poor foreigner except a few. When he 
stopped the Lord said to me as he said to Phillip, "Go up, join 
yourself to him." So I said, " 1 want to sing." I struck in: 

"I praise the Lord that one like me, 
For mercy may to Jesus flee. 
He says that whosoever will 
May seek and find salvation still." 

And then the chorus: 

"My Saviour's promise faileth never; 
He counts me in the 1 whosoever.' " 

I sang out with all my ransomed powers, and the people came 
from all parts of the ship. There was a great crowd. The speaker 
seemed a little astonished, but said, "Hallelujah. Amen." 

When I got through with my song T began to speak. O, how 
the Lord helped me. Then the people wanted me to speak in the 
saloon on Sunday evening. I felt God wanted me to do so, and the 
door was open; I see it now. I am careful, and never like to overdo 
anything — never like to do anything that looks like I want to 
push myself, so the devil took that advantage, and when I thought, 
I would do it, he said: 

"Now, you had better let well enough alone, there has been 
enough for to-day, and to-morrow there will be nothing; why not 
do it to-morrow? " 

"Yes," I said, "perhaps that is the best." But, no; it was 
not. I ought to have done it when the Lord bade me. 

On Monday the saloon was full and they sang and played 



504 



Autobiography op 



cards and other games. No shadow of a chance for anyone to 
speak unless he just broke right in with everything. 

44 Well," I said, " I will speak on Tuesday," but no, no chance. 

Then I said, "I will the last night," for they said we would not 
likely get in until Friday. 

44 O," I said, 44 I will get ready and do it on Thursday;" but I 
felt I should have spoken Wednesday night anyhow. 

A number of the passengers, ladies and friends, wanted that I 
should speak, but I said, 44 On Thursday night I will, without 
fail, speak and sing." 

But, O, what a mistake! We got in on Thursday afternoon, 
four o'clock, instead of Friday. How ashamed and sorry I was I 
had not spoken on Wednesday night, as the Lord had showed me. 

This is not the only time my courage has failed me under some- 
what similar circumstances. Once, on my way from Calcutta,India, 
to British Burmah, there were a number of English passengers, and 
though they were respectable and all right as far as I know, they 
were not of the best type of English ladies and gentlemen. They 
were of an 4 airish' quality, and that class of English or Ameri- 
cans, especially when traveling, are not the class that good taste 
would be apt to admire or fall in love with; and to do your duty 
in spite of these surroundings takes a good deal of pluck, espe- 
cially for a colored woman. 

There was a man, his wife and baby, and his brother, from 
San Francisco, California. The baby was the crossest baby I really 
ever saw. It cried night and day for simple amusement, it seemed, 
if for nothing else. Everybody was worn out with it. 

These Californians seemed to avoid all Godliness. They 
laughed and jeered at everything that was said about religion; but 
they were anxious for me to talk on Sunday morning when they 
found out I was an evangelist; and I did pray God to make my 
duty plain to me; and I think He did very clearly show me that I 
was to speak on Sunday. 

They kept up a laugh and joke about it all Saturday, and 
Sunday morning at the breakfast table, and all the steerage pas- 
sengers had it, and they seemed as though they were looking for- 
ward to a menagerie. When I saw this, I began to question, and 
the Devil helped me. 

44 You know you are not to cast your pearls before swine," he 
said. 



Amanda Smith. 



505 



One might have thought he was careful of God's pearls. So I 
did not do it. I didn't feel that I did right, but still I didn't do it. 

I believe God would have blest souls on that steamer if I had 
only done my duty. Then the Californians, after all, seemed dis- 
appointed, and were more taunting and sneering than they were 
before. O, how I saw my mistake. I wept before the Lord, and 
again sought His forgiving mercy. The mistakes of my life have 
been many. 

O, the patience and loving kindness of the Lord, so infinite in 
power and might, to bear with such cowards. How true the 
words of this song: — 

"Were it not that love and mercy in my Lord abide, 
When my conscience is o'ertaken, where would I hide? 
How could I live without Thee, Saviour and friend, 
Thou art my only refuge, saved to the end." 

Upon our arival at New York I was kindly invited to the home 
of Mr. and Mrs. Gibson at their pleasant residence, 384 Union street, 
Brooklyn. Mrs. Gibson was sick in bed, but Mr. Gibson met me 
at the landing and took me to his home, where I was for two 
w r eeks. Then I took a room, the only one I could get; it was ten 
dollars a month; but this gave me a little chance to look around; 
then my friend, Mrs. Mary R. Denman, of Newark, N. J., kindly 
gave me a room in one of her small houses, where my home has 
been ever since up till last October, when I came to Chicago. 
Since then I have decided to make this my future home, but en- 
tirely subject to God's direction and leading. 



And now I close the last chapter of this little book, which has 
been such a task to one so unskilled in work of this kind. There 
has been no attempt to show a dash of rhetoric or intellectual 
ability, but just the simple story of God's dealings with a worm. 
If, after all, no one should be brought nearer to God, and to a 
deeper consecration, I shall be sadly disappointed; for my whole 
object and wish is that God will make it a blessing to all who may 
read it; and with this desire and prayer I send it forth to the 
world. And especially do I pray that many of my own people 
will be led to a more full consecration, and that the Spirit of the 



506 



Autobiography of Amanda Smith. 



Lord may come upon some of the younger women who have tal- 
ent, and who have had better opportunities than I have ever had, 
and so must do better work for the Master; so that when I have 
fallen in the battle, and can do no more, they may take up the 
standard and bear it on, with the inscription deeply engraven on 
heart and life, "Without holiness, no man shall see the Lord." 



THE END. 



N 



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